Lord of Tang
by tgfoy
Summary: Sequel to Essence of Revenge. A single journey across two era's a millenia apart. A Wizard and a Witch connected by blood. Both with destiny's to fulfill. Forever separate, connected for eternity. Can the circumstances of Freedom be fulfilled? Dual era, set both in the months after Essence of Revenge and the Tenth Century. Please note the warning at the start of Chapter 1.
1. Destiny's Journey Begins

This is a Multi Period (not time travel) story that is is partly set in the 10th Century, (Part of what is commonly referred to as the Viking period) as a result it contains depictions of battle, sacrifice ( so some descriptions of a bloody nature etc), slavery, religious intolerance and other period attitudes for this era, in those sections. It therefore it may not be suitable for younger readers, those of a sensitive disposition, or those who object to the portrayal of those subjects even in a historical, fictional context. If you are such a person, then perhaps this story may not be for you.

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Disclaimer: Anything you recognise from the books by J. K. Rowling remains hers and hers alone, I make no claim on them.

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 **Chapter 1**

 **Destiny's Journey Begins.**

The 10th century.

The long, rough grass was crisp and brittle, frozen by the sharp white crystals of the early winter frost. Each blade covered, giving them a blue grey appearance on the muddy, frozen isthmus of land that stretched from the confluence of the two becks that normally flowed from a roughly easterly direction. A layer of ice covered the two weed filled becks that met not more than half a mile behind the small fortified farmstead and stretched towards the great City beyond. The small community was set on high ground on the bank upstream of the southernmost of the two becks, which was the stronger flowing of the two; they broke the ice of the beck to gather water whenever the well within the palisade was frozen. The marshland behind the settlement was not used for much of the year, the ground too soft when not frozen and the vegetation too rough for more than sheep or goats to digest, had only limited interest to them. The entrance through the timber wall faced land that was good rich and fertile, that provided more than enough food for the inhabitants and give them surplus to trade with the occupants of the City who had little space to grow or rear their own.

The hundred or so souls that resided within the compound were an insignificant number compared with the populace of nearby Jorvik, or as the Saxons still called it Eoforwic. That City lay beyond the confluence of the becks as well as the point where they joined the Fosse, a small shallow river that further separated the farmstead from its larger neighbour. Whatever anyone called it, the city had undoubtedly grown under the North men's control to become, what the sailors who arrived there on their ships assured its residents, without doubt the largest city in the world, it was a claim easy to believe of the filthy place. Just as had the Romans long before them, the North men had recognised that this place was strategically important and a naturally well protected inland port, it had grown again and grown fast, becoming larger than even the old City. With probably 30,000 residents within its ancient stone walls, which had been built by the Romans as was the case with a number of the buildings within, having been repaired using tree trunks, it was a City of boundless wealth and importance. No one knew how to make the stone the ancients from Rome had used to fix the blocks that formed their largely surviving constructions together, so it was impossible to build using their techniques now, regardless of the wealth. There were some that claimed the Roman stone had been made in a close to a liquid state before the blocks had been positioned. Others mocked such an idea, pointing to the pillar's made of blocks in the river, the remains of a City Centre bridge long collapsed into the fast flowing brown water, to show it could not have been, liquid stone would soon have been washed away.

The numbers of people living there had grown since the Norse had first arrived and settled here amongst those that had occupied the remains of the strong buildings. With them the Danes had brought trade with other countries, which expanded and some residents grew wealthy. The north men had gained control of the lands north of the Humber, called Northumbria, or Danelaw, mostly through trade rather than the violence they were renowned for and certainly could and would use, just as the Saxon population they infiltrated, were more than able to match. Both peoples had, instead seen the value of trade here and had exploited it to mutual benefit, building wealth in the City which flourished as a result, with many ships arriving on the tide, each day from early spring to the onset of winter. Every vessel carrying goods the captains were keen to trade from all corners of the world to this richest of all market places. Seal pelts arrived from Iceland, Peppercorns and Gemstones from the Hot Eastern lands, as well as the unfortunates who were now slaves, usually captured in battle in far off places and all manner of produce in between A rich tapestry of goods found its way to the City, from foreign lands and the countries that divided this island, to be sold or bartered in exchange for Gold or the goods made in the City which would be spread throughout Danelaw and the world, though foreign trade was just a memory in Winter, or something to look forward to resuming in the Spring, depending on how well trade had gone for the one speaking.

Many people were attracted by the potential wealth to be earned there; riches were available beyond even the dreams of most outside its protection. Such was the opportunity in the City that each day there was a steady stream of people carrying goods through its gates along each of the still smooth roads the Romans had built that radiated from it to lead across the whole vast island. They came to trade from all over Northumbria, to claim their share of the wealth in exchange for the produce and trinkets they brought. Much was traded with the residents of Jorvik; some left the City carried aboard one of the ships on the main river, to be traded across the known World. At least it did, until the winter storms arrived at sea.

No captains risked the wrath of the North Sea in winter; it could claim many a crew in good weather, no point risking them in the storms of the months of shorter days. Many ships that were wintering within the protection of the walls had been dragged out of the water onto the banks of the Ouse. They sat, like beached whales, in the freezing mud of the tidal river, which flowed steadily, even lazily, to the Humber and then to the North Sea. The stranded vessels had been beached to protect them if the river froze, but also so that the hulls could be laboriously scraped clean of Barnacles and slime, before they were repaired ready for spring when even more ships would start to arrive. Many of the City's boys could earn extra money for their families during the lean Winter months, scraping the planks of the ships clean, it was filthy work, but kept them warm on the frozen mud and paid well compared to many jobs available to them at other times of the year.

Throughout the maze of muddy streets of the City was a hive of activity, both honest trading and more nefarious activity, the noise of children playing between chores mixing with the shouts of the traders working, women talking or arguing the price of their purchase and animals squealing or grunting behind the houses.

It was this filthy, noisy place that was the capital of Danelaw, as some called the northern country above the Humber. It was here that the King of Northumbria and his family lived, in a palace that was one of the larger Roman villas left. The timber built long houses spreading to engulf the abandoned Roman remains; even the streets of that city were gone, beneath the need for more easily maintained houses, latrines and filth. Still a number of the more important, larger buildings built by those ancients, remained, resilient, if crumbling reminders of a glorious past. Some retaining faded remains of richly painted decorations on the walls, the amphitheatre providing a ghostly place where the Kings men practised and trained, watched by children, who jeered the prisoners held there, destined to be fodder for the ravens and birds once practice was done.

There was a permanent pall of smoke from the myriad of fires, staining the sky above the city and the smell of all manner of rotting waste in the streets was carried on the wind, mixed with the scents from the fires and cooking. As you got closer to its still formidable walls, the stench hung in the air, sometimes spreading for miles over the surrounding lands, depending on the wind strength and direction.

The walls protecting the City, were reinforced old Roman stone defences, that had been built in a square on the eastern side of the Ouse, in the triangle of land created by it and the smaller Fosse which flowed into the Ouse to the south of the wall, affording a natural defence as the city had grown outside the Roman limits. Where the stone work had crumbled, the wall had been repaired and strengthened using tree trunks from the surrounding forest, ensuring they had kept those within safe as they had since they were laid out centuries before. Both the Saxons and the North men had, where possible, ignored the Roman street pattern when building their new houses amongst the remains of the Roman built structures. The roads were filthy, mud with some wood or patches of straw strewn in especially wet areas, a haze of smoke from thousands of fires hung above as the tradesmen and craftsmen went about their work, the children played and the women prepared the meals or shopped. Although they had used some of the larger, more complete brick and stone Roman buildings, where they had been easy to repair and maintain, but the majority of the City's buildings were long houses, built from planks of wood and thatched with reeds from the two rivers and the becks. The sheer amount of wood cut from the forest for the City over the years had created a wide, clear view across the mile between the great City and the humble community, which was now a further half a mile from the trees beyond.

It was in this space, to the east of the City where the farmstead lay between the two becks, but high enough and far enough away from them for their flooding, in autumn and Spring to not be a problem. The ground between the two becks close to where they merged, turned to bog due to the autumn floods, along with the area between the combined becks and the River Fosse which they joined, were full of numerous pools and thick mud that were frozen that day, but still reflecting the weak winter light of the early morning sun. It was the confluence of these two watercourses that gave the outpost its name, Tang, the Saxon word for the meeting place of two such streams, a name used for this place for far longer than the defended farmstead had been there.

The small community sat within its own small defensive wall of tree trunks, driven into an earth bank above a ditch. It was an outpost of the city, close to the Roman road which led east over the hills and moors to the coast at Hvitsby, a settlement with a large Abbey, some fifty miles or two day's walk away, through dense forest where wolves prowled, hunting Hare and other small mammals before it rose above the trees over the Wolds and moors. The road saw a constant stream of people during the day, hurrying to and from the city with goods to trade, Fleece from the high moorlands, Jet beads from Hvits Settlement, Antler, timber, sea shells, animal skins, clay and gems amongst the raw materials for the City craftsmen to make objects from. It was also a route from the farms and estates to send in their produce to trade, meat from the Wolds, Barrels of Honey, as well as grain, Vegetables, Fruit and Nuts all carried on wagons, horse back and by slaves for miles, to supply the City where there was little room to grow much food. From dawn to dusk, a steady stream of people made their way to or from the City, those leaving hurrying away to get through the forest before dark. At night no one travelled through the woods, the spirits of the forest ensured that. They would attack travellers, especially those on their own and their soul would become lost in the trees forever, seeking the souls of others in turn.

The land his family owned and farmed here, next to Jorvik, ran up to the edge of the vast eastern woodland then along its boundary, to the north as far as the road, which marked that end of their estate. To the south their lands stretched round the city wall to the river Ouse including the smaller community at Fueltorp, the river formed the border of their land at that end, including another two Roman roads into the City. The land had been part of the gift to his family, given generations ago by the then King as reward for supporting him in battle where they had won a victory. His family had slaves to farm the land and look after them whilst they spent the winter here, avoiding the worse winter weather at their other, rather grander, house and estate at Thwing in the hills of the Wolds.

His family was wealthy, his ancestors mighty warriors on his father's side, they had fearsome reputation and were the subject of many a song and saga told by the fires of settlements everywhere. His Father was a Lord, the Lord of Tang and though old, over forty winters, had been a feared warrior. Songs were still sung of him and he was still a powerful man, in more ways than one, respected by Saxons and North men alike. It was not just because his Father was large or a warrior that he was respected, but he was also an advisor to the King, one of the most trusted and could raise over a hundred men at arms, who were sworn to him, if needed. His Father was a man who enjoyed the relative isolation of Thwing estate and of the farmstead here at Tang. His men having earned their own lands in the area, in battle to the south, none having halls as large or grand as the ones he owned of course.

His mother was a strong woman who had kept her beauty through a number of pregnancies and raising their surviving children. She was an example of the rare variety of Saxon, she, like her husband, was a pagan who shunned the newer religion, Christianity, which most Saxons followed.

There was, even now, a large church in Jorvik; it was the largest building there, apart from the King's palace and a few of the old Roman structures like their amphitheatre which still survived. There were a number of Priests living at the Church, which they called a Minster, or a Cathedral depending which of them you spoke to. They were in a constant battle with the King over the Taxes he charged them, in the Christian Saxon South a portion of everyone's Taxes went to the greedy Church and the Priests were free of all tax. Not so here, where many still held onto the old gods and beliefs, so the Priests could only gather from those who attended their churches and were taxed by the King, just as all men were. His Father considered the Christian Priests to be leaches that wanted freedom from Taxes, no responsibility to defend their community or go into battle for their King and to strip all of their earned wealth. The priests claimed that a Christian man had become Roman Emperor on the steps of the building on which their church in the city was now built. They said he was the first Christian emperor they had been blessed to have, so here in the city their church was founded, it should rule, his father said the clergy were speaking from where a pig farts, they would say anything to try to support their claims for more silver. No, his family preferred a mix of the Old Saxon and Norse gods, but, despite having to pay out more the new belief had grown in the city; the Priests were gaining converts and money. Almost unnoticed they had gained support and wealth in the City, so much so that they could now, if they wished, even challenge the throne, although the question of their success if they did remained.

Here at the estate that gave his family their title, they were close enough to the city to benefit from the traders, but did not have to suffer its smelly, crowded streets. Within its timber post on earthen bank ramparts were a dozen wooden, thatched buildings, for the slaves who tended the fields and family, the gate was guarded and a long plain building housed the dozen or so sworn men whose turn it was to guard the family alongside the few who lived with the family. The Hall was a large long house, decorated with carvings and animal skulls, a large set of Antlers stood high at the pinnacle of the roof above the door. The Hall was where he lived with his Father and Mother at one end of the space, near the cooking fire, the other end of the room was home to a number of sheep and cattle, providing warmth to the family as the fire died down, untended overnight. He spent his days, hunting, fishing, doing his chores and in battle training, as he had since he was six, as was expected of all boys once they reached that age. The evenings were spent in the Hall listening as his Father and his most trusted men discussed the day's work, the situation in Jorvik or told stories of past glories and battles. He sat next to his Father, observing, not speaking. He was there to learn how a Lord behaved and kept the loyalty of his men, he was his father's heir. He would take over when his father died.

Now he was almost an adult, he was eleven, a year from adulthood, once he turned twelve he could be called to take part in battle, he could marry, but first he had to build his reputation. He was a skilled swords man and a master of techniques required in a shield wall, as was expected from the heir of a Lord. The smith a Thwing had made him a sword; helmet and chain mail coat of his own which he wore for practise, in it he already appeared as a powerful Lord might. One day all that his Father owned would be his, once his father was dead, he would be the Lord of all this and the sworn men would need to decide whether to swear an oath to him or another Lord. They needed to know he would be an asset leading them into battle, before any would become his men. He was now the only surviving son, his elder brothers having died in battle.

His name was Utred, Utred Huntrodds, son of Utred the Feared, his family did not use the Norse tradition of adding Son to their name, but proudly keeping the name of their ancestors unchanged. When he was young he had not understood why his father was feared, not until he had started his lessons did he know the fierceness his Father was capable of. After that first battle training in the practice area, in the courtyard within the wall, he understood, that first lesson was forever engraved in his mind. His Father enjoyed teaching his son personally when he could and this first lesson had been with his Father, they had used wooden weapons on that occasion and his Father had asked six of his men to form a shield wall, which he single handedly attacked. He had instructed the men not to hold back when he charged, even though he was their Lord. The men had taken him at his word and charged, hard. Utred remembered his fear as the six battle hardened men had, at first seemed to over whelm his Father, attacking him savagely with the wooden training weapons. Then suddenly with a blood-curdling roar, his Father had erupted from the scrum and flung the men around like dolls. The moment the six year old Utred had heard that animalistic, feral roar, a noise he had never heard from him, he knew why his father was called the Feared.

His Father had then had half a dozen Norse prisoners from Jorvik brought in to the yard; they were led shuffling in, some looking round in fear, others defiant. These were criminals caught and tried in the city, who had been sentenced to death, by one or other methods open to the court ranging from hanging to drowning in the river or beheading, all were dishonourable deaths for a Norseman. His Father offered them the chance to die as warriors, with swords in their hands and attempt to defeat him, if they could; alternatively they could die in humiliation by whatever means had been determined. Each of them chose to fight; they were assured that if they defeated him then they were free. They all believed in the old gods, which was why they had been selected, it meant that for them death in battle, with a sword in their hand, would guarantee glory in the afterlife. To die fighting would mean joining dead warriors in the Feasting Hall of Valhalla, a far more appealing death than execution and humiliation, their bodies mounted over the city gates to be fed to Ravens or cast into a sty for Swine to devour.

By choosing to fight, they were trying to regain some glory for their names; they would certainly achieve that if they defeated a renowned warrior like his Father. They were given swords, axes and shields, real ones. His Father picked up his own sword and shield and stood ready as the six prisoners attacked, together in a disorganised mass.

Utred had vomited at the sight of the first one to fall, abdomen opened, its contents spilling into the mud, the body writhing in the man's death throws. His older brothers laughed at him, as their Father slaughtered his opponents and the blood ran thickly across the ground. That had been the first time Utred had seen slaughter, as it would be when he went into battle, the first time he had been this close to death, the smell had over whelmed him, at the time.

Now, five years later, he was the only son left and had become accustomed to the sight of such gore and death. He had killed men, during training duels with prisoners, admittedly because it was during training sessions the battles were weighted in his favour to some extent, though only to ensure he lived, not necessarily won. If any of the criminals had looked like over powering him, even with the blunt weapons they had been given, his Father or one of their men had acted to prevent it. He remembered the first he had killed a few months before he turned eight. The man had come at him fiercely, trying to scare him, he had fought poorly though and Utred's sword had first felled him, cutting through his calves, but the man grabbed him as he fell, dragging him down, then gripped his throat tightly. Utred swung his sword wildly, opening the man's own throat and sending blood spraying over himself and the ground. The man's grip released him as he grasped at his own neck, trying to seal the wound so he could breathe, but it was pointless.

"Finish him Utred, end him quickly, this isn't revenge." His father ordered.

The man was twitching on the ground and suddenly Utred was nervous in his euphoria of the fight. He had tried to stab the prisoner through his heart, but the blade had glanced off his ribs. He had continued to try to end the man's pain, stabbing and slashing at him, his father and his men laughing at the youngster's efforts until eventually the man had died. Unknown to Utred a priest had seen the fight and was horrified at what he had seen and started berating his father for condemning his son's soul to hell by allowing it. His father had simply called. "Utred how was it?"

He looked up at his father, face red with the man's blood and a massive grin on his face. "Good Father." He replied, white teeth showing brightly through the blood.

Grinning, Utred the feared turned to the priest. "If you don't start them killing young, before they know to feel the guilt you would put on them, they never become a good warrior. When he is a lord he will need to fight and kill or he will have no men for the King, they won't follow him. He will also need to condemn men to death at times, if he will not carry out the sentence himself, how can he ask others to do it for him. "

His father walked away from the shocked man, who had come with a message from the King, Utred held onto the sword, still dripping with blood and followed him to the hall.

That night in the hall, Utred got drunk for the first time, celebrating his first kill as his father said was his family's custom. The priest sat as a guest with the family, his message still undelivered, uncomfortable in this hall of debauchery as he saw it. His father told a heavily embellished version of his son's first kill, then invited the priest to tell a tale to mark the occasion. The man told of Christian saints and how it was not too late for my soul to be saved, he described how saints sat in heaven singing Gods praises for eternity, claiming this was an ecstatic existence.

Utred could not see that as an aspiration he desired, preferring the wilder feasting hall of Valhalla, but in drink asked. "Are there any women in this heaven?"

Believing he was gaining a potential convert from the interest shown, the Priest replied. "Of course, they sing alongside the men, it is truly glorious."

"No!" Utred replied. "I meant women, real women like those with the warriors in Valhalla, women to hump."

His father and the men fell about laughing, as the priest opened and closed his mouth, speechless. Eventually the priest found his voice and weakly responded, promising to pray for them all.

Utred had of course received injuries himself over the years, during his training. They had strengthened him, taught him to dodge and be quicker, but no matter how serious the wound, they had healed quickly, too quickly compared with those of others. He had never received one wound that hadn't been completely healed within a day, no matter how serious it had been. In fact no injury he had received in his life had remained long. Once when he had, as a young boy, fallen from his Fathers Hall roof at Thwing, breaking the bones in both of his arms and a leg, they had healed within a day. Only close family and the most trusted members of the household knew of this ability, to others it was explained away by understating the extent of his injuries. He was not allowed to mix too much with the slaves children of course, his only friends his own age had been children of his Fathers most trusted men who occasionally trained with him. They would be the ones expected to be expected to fight at his side as his men, when he became the Lord, should the King command it. If they any of those had noticed his self-healing abilities, it wasn't mentioned for fear of raising his Fathers' anger. The family knew it may well be known or suspected at least, but were not about to broadcast it widely where it could get the heir killed by the church who viewed such things as the work of their devil.

It couldn't be denied though, that fast healing wasn't the only odd thing about him, strange things seemed to happen around him on a regular. When the animals and beasts that lived in the Hall were restless and no one could calm them, all Utred had to do was raise a hand for them to settle down instantly. On one occasion the cooking fire in the guards barrack had once spread and caught the thatch. Utred entered the house and rather than the building burning to the ground as it should have, only a small section of the roof had needed to be replaced. Such events were known about of course, they could hardly be hidden within the community, though they were rarely spoken about, never with outsiders, who remained ignorant of the odd events. Even so, both at Tang and Thwing, it was known that Utred son of Utred was odd and everyone feared him a little as a result.

This crisp, winter morning, Utred had risen from beneath the furs on his bed as the sun rose, keen to begin this day. He had grown well in the last five years, the training had toned his muscles, which he covered with a linen shirt, then pulled on his woollen trousers and leather boots. Dressed he set about his daily chores, keen to get them out of the way so he could get on with the rest of the day. He might be the son of the Lord, but that did not mean he did not have work contributing to the household to do. He stoked the fire to bring it back to life for the day, ensuring the flames grew on the new logs he placed on the embers before he began spreading clean straw on the floor, a task he did when the old had been absorbed by the mud. His mother rose as he was feeding the beasts at the far end of the hall, she began preparing breakfast. As he worked he was planning the hunt he was going on with later that day with two of his Father's most trusted men, in his mind as well as looking forward to the morning's training.

"Morning my Lord." Fryga called, bringing the first bucket of water of the day into the hall from the nearby well, for the family to wash in.

Fryga was one of the free servants they had; she was twenty, tall and heavily pregnant with her seventh child. She was sworn to Utred's Father, as was her husband and one of the household. Although she had been pregnant each year since marriage, only one of the children had so far survived, but this was not unusual and in fact she was one of the oldest of the married women in the community still bearing children. So many died during child birth, both mother and child, such was the nature of bringing new life into the world.

"Morning Fryga." Utred replied.

He liked Fryga; she was one of the few who were not bothered by the strange occurrences that happened around him. She was of course, quite proper when she dealt with him, remembering her place as a member of the household that protected her, but at the same time she was someone he trusted and had often confided in. Her husband was one of his Fathers most trusted men. She set about cooking breakfast for his family and hers, whilst other trusted servants tended to the animals and started on the day's tasks.

Practice that day was enjoyable; he was practising shield wall skills with some of his Fathers' men. They formed two walls of six men behind overlapping shields and charged each other using short wooden bearded axe's to try and break through. Utred decided, on the fourth charge, that his team would use the triangular pig snout formation, moving into it during the charge to confuse his Fathers group and attempt to force a path through their wall. It worked and his Father roared with laughter as Utred beat them to the ground having burst through.

"Well done my boy." He laughed "Odin knows that is hard to pull off, I believe we have made a warrior of you at last. Now, how about another charge? This time no tricks, a contest of power see who can push the other back."

"Yes Father." Utred replied, grinning ruefully, knowing his Father had the more powerful team and was using the challenge to get a little revenge on him.

They all stacked the wooden weapons near the house then formed the two opposing lines of shield wall, then charged. To Utred's surprise his team held firm, at first then slowly they began to slip back on the frozen earth.

"No, come on push," Growled Utred to his men and their wall briefly held again.

This was a shield on shield contest of raw strength and power. Each man was crouched low behind their shield, pushing hard, their feet digging into the ground to increase the pressure and prevent them being shoved backwards. But still his Fathers team was winning. "Hold, come on damn it hold." Utred thought as his men redoubled their efforts.

Instantly the pressure on his team's shields lessened, "Push!" He shouted.

They did and burst straight through the wall, pushing his father's team out of the way.

Shocked Utred looked round himself; he knew that had been too easy. "What the Hell?"

His Father's team stood or in some cases lay on the ground where they had fallen, still looking like they were straining against their shields, but they were all perfectly still. Utred and his team moved amongst his Father's men, checking them. They were alive, and conscious, but could not move. Utred tried to move his Father's arm, but it was solid and unforgiving. Some of the slaves noticed the men still as the Roman statues in Jorvik; they murmured in surprise and stopped their work.

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Summer 1999.

The occupants of the unremarkable street of Privet Drive, within the little known town of Little Winging in Surrey had grown used to hearing raised voices from within Number four. Living in a place that, in most residents opinion, was so ordinary that, that in itself was its main claim to what little notoriety it could muster, so very little of note about it, anything different was of intense interest and there had been nothing as interesting as this in the area since the arrest of Piers Polkis a couple of years ago. From the outside the house looked no different from any of the others in the street, with its crystal clear, sparkling windows, crisply painted, smart front door, complete with polished brass number and letterbox that shone brightly when the sun, or even the light of the nearby street light, hit it. It's neatly manicured garden, freshly raked weed free gravel between two spotless rows of slabs forming the drive that lead to the glistening double doors of the garage and spotlessly swept paths, gave no impression that the house could be owned by anyone other than people who were proud of their home, ideal neighbours even. However as the occupants of the other houses in the street knew, nothing could be further from the truth.

Although the residents were enjoying the show, as the sound of raised voices belted into the street for them all to gleefully hear while the Dursley's were having yet another row, they all knew the family too well and were nervous of perhaps witnessing something happening which would mean that they would have to intervene, or worse end up testifying about in a court. Although they would all have enjoyed seeing the family finally get their comeuppance, they would far prefer it if they were not involved and it was down to others to actually do it.

The arguing between the family members had been occurring more and more frequently over the year or so, that had passed since they had returned to the house from being mysteriously away for ten months. They had told no one that they were planning the trip, in fact it had been so sudden a departure that some had not realised the house was empty for almost a week. Not that anyone believed anything untoward had happened to the family, it was just that their absence was not noticed by some and those who had seen the departure itself were few in number and word needed to spread amongst the community. No one knew where they had gone, nor were they keen to ask any of the family out right on their return, heaven forbid they be accused of prying into the family's affairs. Yet whilst number four had been empty, the neighbours had fairly soon realised that much of the trouble in the street had ceased in the absence of the family from the town. It had been quite a noteworthy change, appreciated by all. The street had been so peaceful, so pleasant to live in; it did not take long for them all to agree it was mainly because the family were not present. Many had hoped they would not be returning, but they had although the problems of before had not, instead there were different, more entertaining ones with the trio. The Dursley's had always been odd; their return had not initially been at all welcome to their neighbours.

Mr. Dursley was a very big man, always trying to give the impression of normality and respectability, always a little too hard for it to be true. He abhorred anything he viewed as different, be it a humorous sticker on a car or someone dressed up at Halloween. It was well remembered he had flown off the handle once when a neighbours relatives had arrived to visit, in a Volkswagen caravanette painted to look like a lady bird. The house had been on the market very soon afterwards, the man had lost his job at Grunnings. The neighbours knew that Vernon liked to control his family with a rod of iron, but that incident had shown that given half a chance, he would run all their lives just as hard. His attitude to his neighbours had never been friendly; he often acted as though he barely tolerated them or believed them beneath him in some way.

Mrs. Dursley was a thin woman, who might have engendered some sympathy for being married to Vernon had it not been for the fact that for years she had proven to be a malicious gossip. She had only spoken to her neighbours in order bad mouth others in the town, especially any who criticized her son. She was interested in everybody else's business though and took great interest in those she thought were lowering the tone of the street, which was everyone except her family, in her opinion.

The residents of the street knew the couple had one son, Dudley, an only child; he had terrorized the local children for years before the family had disappeared. However the neighbours had noticed a change, for the better in him since the family had returned. No longer did Dudley wander the streets looking for trouble; he had not reconnected with his old friends, who seemed to have dissipated as a result, of them only the young Polkis had continued along the path of criminality. Dudley had, surprisingly to many, befriended dear old Mrs. Figg and could be found visiting her more often than not. The old dear was slightly eccentric about cats, but was well respected, as someone who kept to herself, in the street and was always friendly in her interactions with the other residents and them with her.

There had also recently been a positive change in Petunia, they noticed, but Vernon was just the same, despite the biggest change in the family. No one had seen Harry for nearly two years now, he had disappeared at the same time as the Dursley's. That night the Dursley's had been seen driving away with two strange looking people, the observers assumed that Harry had again been left in the house alone, nothing unusual in that of course. It was possibly the worst kept secret on the street that the Dursley's scapegoat was frequently left in the house, while the other three went out. The teenager had been seen at his room window earlier that day, but that was the last time he had been seen by any of the neighbours. They had, over the years, been told by Vernon the boy attended St. Brutus school, a boarding school for disturbed children, but the boy had seemed quiet during that last summer he had spent at Privet Drive. In fact none could remember him being particularly troublesome at all, true they had heard strange things about him, but not actually witnessed anything. None of them really knew him, due to the stories; they stayed clear of the odd, thin boy.

No one in the street had ever really bothered with the strange family at Number four beyond polite neighbourliness. That was unlikely to change, even though two of them were now more approachable than they had been.

Tonight though, the residents of the street had abandoned their evenings in front of their televisions in the comfort of their own homes and were, instead, stood in groups discussing the goings on in that very house. Loud shouting from the Dursley's had disturbed even the most devout and avid fans amongst them from their soap operas, Vernon's voice carrying the length of the street, on the still summer's evening. He was apparently raging about his son's new girlfriend and his wife's support of the relationship. Apparently she was. "One of them." Whatever that meant, of course it set speculation off amongst the listeners, the wilder theories coming perhaps naturally from those who rarely missed an episode of their favourite soaps.

Unaware that he was providing the residents of the street with its evening's entertainment, the family was standing in their neat living room, Dudley standing defiantly facing his furious Father. This was the latest row his family had, had since Dudley and his Mother had returned from his Cousin's Wedding, an event his Father had forbidden them from attending. They had gone anyway, of course, Dudley no longer held his Father's word as law or his narrow minded prejudices and this knowledge had partly given his Mother the strength to defy her Husband for the first time. They had returned late, his mother had been very thoughtful all the way home.

"They all just accepted me." She had said in wonder, as they had turned into the street.

Vernon had been waiting for them, fuming, but before he could say anything, Dudley had blown a pinch of powder supplied by one of his new cousin in law's brothers, towards his Father, who instantly fell asleep.

The next morning his Father had ignored them both, until he overheard Dudley showing a parchment letter he had received to Petunia. It was from Dudley's new Girlfriend, Maria, who he had met at the Wedding. On hearing this news Vernon had turned purple and the vein on his temple began to throb, he glared at his son, whose eyes met his. After a few moments of staring at each other Vernon had grunted and stomped out.

This behaviour had continued all week, almost daily arguments ensuing as his father sulked. At other times, when he had to communicate, Vernon either snapped at them or merely grunted. Dudley and Maria had exchanged letters daily, via her Owl, a female barn Owl named Phiedi. A fact that Vernon did not miss, causing his anger to increase every time a letter arrived, until at the end of the week he finally exploded as Dudley sent Maria's Owl back with his latest letter. The argument was well under way as the neighbours gathered outside to hear the latest episode in the drama of the Dursley's lives.

"What do you mean you are involved with one of those freaks, boy, I forbid it. How could you expect us to accept her, when she is one of them?" Vernon yelled. "God alone knows what she is like, what has she done to you? I shall see she puts you right again, don't you worry about that. "

Dudley kept his cool as he answered his father. "Maria is a fantastic person." He informed him. "She has done nothing to me, that I was unwilling to participate in, she has certainly done nothing untoward if that is what you are insinuating. There is nothing to put right at all, I have never met anyone like her, she is far from being a freak."

"Of course she is, how could she not be. What would you know about it anyway? You are my son, you have been brought up not to get involved with her kind. That you don't see that tells me and any right thinking person, that you need help, boy."

Dudley sighed. "With each word you show just how little you know me, the person I have become. I will remind you that I am nineteen you can no longer control my life Dad, not unless I choose to let you, which I don't by the way. I make my own choices whether you like it or not, either way what I do in my life is up to me now. You don't intimidate me anymore, nor do you inspire me to be like you, not for several years now, but certainly not since I learnt to think for myself."

Vernon's face was purple with rage. "You ungrateful little brat! After all we have done for you, how dare you speak to me like that. I am your Father boy; it would serve you well not to forget that. You will do as I say, especially while you live under my roof. She is one of them; you will have nothing to do with her or her type."

Petunia stood between Father and Son. "Oh and don't I get a say in this at all, Vernon? I have met her, which is more than you have, so I have a little more insight about her than you have. She is a lovely girl. I am happy for Dudley; he is old enough to make his own decisions. Like it or lump it Vernon."

Vernon was shocked! "Petunia, what do you mean like it or lump it? Oh I get it. You have both been brainwashed by that lot. Well I am not standing for it. Petunia I rescued you from your sister's influence, and then had to take in her freak of a Son at your insistence. Much against my better judgement, you would do well to remember that."

"Vernon, just stop before you make a complete fool of yourself. I have had to put up with your obnoxious Sister and her smelly dogs for you, it works both ways Vernon. With her obsession with breeding them, it is weird how she speaks of it, something prurient, disgusting. She really is the only real freak that I have ever met." Petunia shouted back. "Not to mention your rule that I had nothing to do with my family, especially after my parents died. Well things are going to change, I have put up with enough from you. I should never have had to put up with it at all. You will accept my family, what little is left of it at least; you will apologize to them, especially Harry and his Wife. You will leave Dudley and Maria to get on with their relationship and you will be happy about it."

"Oh I will, will I?" Vernon bellowed. "You ungrateful bitch!" He raised his fist to hit Petunia, whose eyes widened.

He didn't get a chance to do any more, a sudden blow to his ample stomach robbed him of air as he doubled over and staggered back to fall into a chair.

"That's the last time you will raise a fist or hand to my Mother." Dudley stood over him rubbing his own fist.

"Remember, I was school boxing champion, I know where to hit you. I no longer like violence, for its own sake, but I will stop you from hurting either of us again." Dudley crossed to his Mum; he took her in his arms. "I'm sorry Mum, but I am not letting him do that to you under any circumstances." He said as he held her, comfortingly.

"I will have your hide for that boy." His Father gasped from across the room. "I brought you into this world and I will bloody well take you out of it, when I get my hands on you."

"No you won't Vernon." His Wife spat back.

"Won't I? He just assaulted me! No one gets away with that, least of all my Son and I am beginning to wonder about whether he really is mine, the way he is going on. Thinking of dating one of them, ridiculous." Vernon retorted.

"Oh be quiet you petty little man." Petunia retaliated.

Vernon rose, "Petty little man, me?" He bellowed.

"Yes you!" She responded. "Can't get your own way, so you try to threaten and make wild accusations. You don't even realise what you just accused me of in your idiotic attempt to threaten your son."

"Why you ungrateful little bitch, why the hell I married you I am beginning to wonder."

Dudley turned to his Father and stood, fists ready to defend his Mum if needed.

"Perhaps because no one else would have you." Petunia replied.

Vernon looked at his Son and snorted in derision. "I am going out for a walk, when I get back I expect you both to have come back to your senses and to be ready to apologize to me. So long as you do, we shall hear no more of this nonsense and that boy, your nephew, had better not show his face to me ever again." Vernon stalked out of the house.

They heard the door slam as he left and him shouting at the neighbours to clear off and mind their own business.

Dudley turned to his Mum who looked at him; he was surprised to see a very determined look on her face. "Right, that's the last straw, enough is enough. Dudley, pack what you need, clothes, things like that, as much as we can get in your car. We are leaving; I've finally had enough of that fat freak." She stood and they went to their respective rooms to pack.

* * *

Harry and Ginny had, had a wonderful Honeymoon in France. They had marvelled at Paris, and then travelled to Bordeaux, where they had, of course, tried the Wine before moving on to La Rochelle where they had discovered a wonderful Crépery. They had toured the area, discovering small villages and towns, enjoying themselves taking in the sights and shopping. They stayed in a different Hotel every night, some large, others small family run ones where they enjoyed traditional French meals. Each day they moved on, but not before they visited the local Bakery to buy some snacks, Ginny loved Pan au Chocolate so they purchased plenty of those, fresh each day. They had spent the last night of the seven at Fleur's parent's house, who had welcomed them to their home warmly. They threw a dinner party for the couple and they met all the Delacour Family, including aunts, uncles, and cousins in fact as many of the extended family who could make it. Gabrielle proudly introduced them to her Boyfriend who was overwhelmed, at first to be meeting the Harry Potter, much to Gabrielle's amusement. He soon relaxed though, despite speaking little English, once Harry wandlessly cast a translation charm the two of them were soon discussing Quidditch.

They spent the next day, walking round the Village with Gabrielle and Phillipe, her Boyfriend. It was an all Wizard village, the only one in France and like at Hogsmeade the main street led to the school, the Château of Beauxbaton Academy. They couldn't enter of course, but even from the gates they could see the large elegant building set in formal gardens, very different to the ancient walls of Hogwarts. They returned to the village to explore the shops before returning to the house.

It was evening before they left the Delacour's, the whole family was there to see them off, Phillipe promised to keep Harry informed of the French Quidditch results and Fleur's parents gave them a parcel of French treats to take home.

The newly Weds had sent their luggage home ahead of them then Apparated back to London and there Grimmauld Place address. It was dark when they arrived at number twelve, which appeared between its neighbours as they approached. They climbed the steps and Harry rang the bell and then picked Ginny up in his arms.

"Harry what are you doing?" She giggled. "Put me down before we fall!"

"No, Mrs. Potter we are doing this properly." He smiled as Kreacher opened the door.

"Master, Mistress welcome home." He greeted them while Harry carried Ginny over the threshold then put her down on her feet in the hall.

"Hello Kreacher, everything all right?" Harry said.

"Yes, Master, there are a number of letters for you in the sitting room, dinner is nearly ready. Madam Andromeda says she and Master Teddy will call in tomorrow. Madam Weasley asks that you let her know when you are back, as does the Headmistress and Minister, they told me you should Floo them at the Minister's flat." He told them.

"Oh, at his flat, that's interesting, thanks Kreacher," Ginny smiled. The couple went to the sitting room and Ginny called her Mother while Harry started on the pile of post on the sideboard. Harry was still working through the letters when Ginny finished talking to her Mum.

"Everyone's fine, Ron and Hermione have set a date for their Wedding. It's next Easter at Ottery St. Catchpole Church, then a bonding at the Burrow, they have bought a cottage in Hogsmeade too."

"Oh a Muggle Wedding should be interesting." Harry smiled as he thought of all the Wizards who would be present. "I have never been to one of those, something to look forward to. You had better give me a hand with these love, looks like everyone in the Wizarding World wants to congratulate us."

"All right darling, are you going to Floo Kingsley and Minerva?" Ginny smiled.

Harry nodded and went to the fireplace to contact the Minister.

"Hi Kingsley, we got your message. We are back safe and sound." He smiled as his friend appeared at the other end.

"Good to see you Harry let me get Minerva mate." The Minister turned and called the Headmistress.

"Welcome back Harry," She called as she entered the room. "Did you both have a good time?"

"Yes Minerva, we got back about twenty minutes ago. Kreacher gave us your message." Harry smiled.

"Is Ginny there? We need to talk to you both, don't worry its good news." Minerva asked grinning.

"Hang on, I'll get her." Harry turned and called Ginny over. When she arrived Kingsley gave the news.

"Now you two, as you know, Minerva caught the bouquet at your Wedding, since then we have been planning. We are getting married at Hogwarts at the Halloween Feast, but we have a couple of things to ask you so, Harry will you be my Best Man?" Kingsley smiles

"Wow, yes of course I will Kingsley." Said Harry. "It would be an honour."

Minerva added. "And Ginny, will you be my Matron of Honour?"

"Of course I will Minerva." Ginny smiled.

"Good that's settled, now no one else knows yet, neither of us has any family left. So we are setting up a cover story to get people we want to be there, there, to surprise them. You two will be the only ones who know the real reason." Said Kingsley grinning.

The two couples then chatted about what had been going on since the Wedding, until Kreacher called Harry and Ginny for dinner.

Later Harry was sat at his desk in their bedroom writing a letter.

"Come on darling." Ginny grinned from where they lay on their bed. "I'm waiting for you."

"There in a minute love, just sending this letter to Dudley, let him know we are back." He smiled then rolled up the letter and tied it to Tiberius leg. The owl flew out of the window. Harry watched him go as the clock in the room struck midnight, then turned and joined Ginny in bed.

Ginny cuddled him "I hope he and Aunt Petunia are all right, Mum says George hasn't heard from Dudders all week."

"He'll be fine, I'm sure dear. Bet we hear from him tomorrow." Harry returned the cuddle they kissed; he felt Ginny's delicate hand as she slowly slid it between his legs.

"Why Mrs. Potter, you are insatiable," He grinned moving his hand to her breast.

"Luckily, so are you Mr. Potter," She giggled.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**  
Hope you enjoyed it. This story is going to be very different in that I intend most chapters to include both era's.

My thanks to Balthazar91 for his work as Beta for this story.

This story was removed from another site, those who read it there before it was deleted may have noticed I have added more to it and the Historical notes at the end of each chapter. Those who are new to it I hope you enjoy it, I am using my knowledge from working as an Archaeologist some years ago to add to the depiction of the 10th Century uk (the founders era) portions as accurately as possible in this story. My colleagues are of course constantly discovering new information, our knowledge of the era is far from complete, I have endeavoured to include the most up to date knowledge of the period though through the work of my colleagues our understanding is constantly evolving as new sites are explored and discoveries made.

I include the historical notes on most chapters, simply to give you more background for things mentioned, but if you think I have missed something out of the explanations or there is something about the period parts of the story you are puzzled over, then let me know and I shall try to answer it either in a historical note or once the story is complete in any update to the relevant chapter.

Anyway, until next time.  
Tgfoy

 **Historical Notes:**

Jorvik is pronounced Yorvik

Eoforwic is pronounced E o for wick

Both names were used at the time for the City now called York, however for ease of use I shall mainly use Jorvik in this story.

Jorvik is known to have been the largest Viking age Settlement in the then known world, the writings of the Monk Alcuin and the Archaeological record within the city give the estimate of the population used.

The last Norse King of Jorvik was Erik Bloodaxe; most Kings in the period were Saxons under the control of the Norse, i.e. Puppet Kings.

Tang is a Saxon word meaning Meeting Place of two becks (beck is a regional name for a Stream or Brook). The area became known as Tang Hall when a large manor house was built in the 1800's (demolished in the 1970's) then in the 1920's the green field area passed into the hands of the local authority which built it's first council house estate there, the second in the country, to re-house families from one of the Cities slums.

Fueltorp = Fulford, site of the least known, but first battle of three in 1066, during which the last Norse invasion of England began with the capture of York, the victory was short lived as the invaders were defeated at nearby Stamford Bridge about a week or so later.

Hvits Settlement is now Whitby, not much is known of Hvit himself other than his name meant White in Old Norse. The word by meant settlement the modern name is derived from that translation.

At the time this part of the story is set, what we know as England was divided into several Kingdoms. Utred is in Northumbria (North of the Humber) which included some of Lancashire and Cumbria, Mercia was immediately south of the Humber stretching from the border of Wales in the west to lincolnshire in the east and as far south as London on the north bank of the Thames. The bulge of East Anglia was another Kingdom, while Wessex and Cornwall made up the rest. (This is just a rough guide). In this story Only Northumbria was not fully controlled by the Christian Saxons at this time. A unified England was the aim of King Alfred (the one who burnt the cakes according to Legend). Known as the great for brokering peace with the Norse, ending a series of Battles during which he lost his Kingdom except for a few islands in a marsh around Athelney. From such a weak position he raised an army and reclaimed his Kingdom and more, hence he is known as Alfred the Great.

The description of the area and Utred's life will be as accurate as possible, allowing for some artistic licence with the politics of the time, based on what we know or is most likely from what we know. I have toned down the violence in the battle training for this chapter though.

A word about the ages mentioned, average life expectancy was 20 to 30 years for women, 35 to 40 for men. Of course some lived longer but 40 was old by their standards. 12 was young middle aged to them, Girls would be married off as soon after they reached 12 as possible, if they were unmarried by 16 they were considered too old for a young man, a widower might wish to remarry though. In no way does my inclusion of these facts infer that I consider it a correct practice in modern times, they are included so the reader may better understand the different culture of a time long past.


	2. Flight and Fury

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise from the books by J. K. Rowling remains hers and hers alone, I make no claim on them.

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

 **Flight and Fury.**

The residents of Privet Drive had watched, in amusement when Mr. Dursley stormed out of the house, ignored his rant aimed at them and then continued to watch him disappear as he strode round the corner. All was quiet again outside, but they noticed there was much activity within the house. The upstairs lights flicked on, it was probably the first time they had seen every light in the house on at the same time. They sensed something momentous was happening inside and did not want to miss any part of what was going on. It was probably the first time anything the Dursley's did had united their community in such a neighbourly way. Some of them talking in the street for the first time, while others chatted who hadn't spoken for a long time, began to realise the reason was gossip from Petunia in the past. It seemed the melt down, apparently going on in number four, was uniting the neighbours. Some, who had noticed the changes in Dudley and Petunia, were reporting these to those who had not. Many discussed the long unexplained absence of young Harry. They were all agreed on one thing though, this was the best entertainment the street had seen for a number of years and wondered what would happen next.

After ten minutes or so, the front door of number four opened again, Dudley appeared carrying a large suitcase, he carried it to his car, opened the boot and loaded the case in, then went back inside, without closing the lid. Over the next half hour Dudley appeared numerous times each time carrying boxes or cases, all of which were loaded into his car. Once the boot was full and closed, he loaded the rest into the back seat and foot well, until that too was full. He went back inside again, only to reappear a moment later with his mother, both carrying hand luggage, locking the door on the now dark house, they climbed into the front seats of the car. The engine started, reversed out of the drive and drove away, without a glance at their neighbours or behind them. As the car turned the corner at one end of the street, Mrs. Figg appeared at the other end from the alleyway, one of the neighbours stopped her and told her about the events of the night. After a few minutes she nodded her thanks to the neighbour, then rushed to her house and went in. Knowing the excitement was over, at least until Vernon Dursley returned, the residents of Privet Drive returned to their houses and the excitement of their soap operas, not noticing a green glow shining from the gap in the curtains of Mrs. Figg's front window.

As the car turned the corner out of Privet Drive, Mother and son had but one regret, which was not being able to tell Mrs. Figg where they were going. It would have been too public and wasted too much time in which Vernon could return, if they had gone over to her house. Neither wanted to give the neighbours too much to talk about, even though if all went well they didn't expect to see them again, they had enough to talk about after this evening without adding more. They had just left, as things stood they were drawing a line under their past, doing the very thing none of them believed they could, leaving that dull street and the abusive man who had for so long kept them there. He was the other reason they had not delayed, there was no telling what he might do if he had found them packing the car, they also wanted to avoid the necessity for Dudley to defend his mother again. They had both had enough and so had left, although they had not planned their departure, they both knew it was inevitable it would happen, they had hoped for time to work out what they would do. In fact neither knew where they were going; they had no destination in mind. All that they wanted to do was to put as much distance between them and Privet drive as possible. Dudley just drove on, they passed the park and headed to the single main road out of Little Whinging, linking the town with the larger road network, soon they reached open countryside.

The car was heavy with luggage, Dudley had left his computer, TV and other electronic gadgets, he intended to go into the magical world to be near Maria, his new girlfriend who he had met at his cousin's wedding, if he could, and the technology was of no use there. If he could find a place for his mother live also, so much the better. Even if he had not packed all his belongings, he had all his clothes and some other bits and pieces, but most of the things in the car belonged to his mother. She had retrieved all sorts of Evans family heirlooms as well as her clothes and other bits and bobs from the house; she had left her wedding ring on the dressing table. She had made her choice; she never wanted to see little Whinging or Vernon again if she could help it.

After two hours driving aimlessly, though mostly through the southern counties, they needed fuel, they were close to a small town, they could see a large church at its centre. They had no idea of the name of the place, but an out of town shopping centre was sign posted from the bypass around it. They turned off the road and followed the signs, arriving at the services not long after, they found a petrol station attached to a supermarket, which meant the fuel was not as expensive as it often was at roadside services as well as a burger bar so stopped for a break. They refuelled both themselves and the car, then drove on, determined to put as much distance between themselves and their former lives as possible.

* * *

When Vernon arrived home, several hours after he had left, he was confident he had punished his wife enough and she would be more than willing to follow his lead again. He had spent the time enjoying a meal at his lodge in the main street, it had, of course, been an excellent four courses, over which he had taken his time and washed it down with a bottle of good red wine. He had dined alone, although he spoke with a number of other lodge members, many of whom he had introduced to the society and owed him as a result. Some were customers of his company; others were members of the local council and most owed him favours in one way or another. Alongside his home, business and family, the lodge was one of the few places where he was reassured of his place in this community. It had become a refuge, a haven for him when he wanted to relax away from home, as he had this evening. He knew that whilst he had a refuge to escape to, Petunia had only the social life she had with him, the one he allowed. He smiled as he thought of her waiting for him anxiously and the warmth of the welcome he would get when he walked back in. After all, she had no one and nowhere else to turn to, he thought to himself as he turned the corner into privet drive, confident in the certainty of his belief. The street was quiet, he was glad of that, the neighbours had returned to their own homes instead of poking their noses into his business. He looked along the street trying to spot if any were watching through their curtains, he saw no one, but he noticed there were no lights on at number four. He raised an eyebrow; this surprised him, he had expected to find Petunia sat up, waiting for him in the living room, worried out of her mind. He was annoyed that it looked like she had gone to bed, especially before he had returned. He went to the front door and opened it, in his annoyance he did not noticed that his Son's car was missing from its place on the road in front of the house. He went to the kitchen to get a drink, he turned the light on and got a bottle of juice from the fridge then a glass from the cupboard, banging the door closed. That would let Petunia know he was here, he should hear her voice calling down the stairs any moment. He smiled as he poured the drink then turned to sit at the kitchen table, there was an envelope lay in the centre of it. Vernon picked it up, it was addressed to him in Petunia's hand writing, he smiled she had left a letter of apology when she had been too tired to stay up. He knew she would come round, but she needn't have written, she should know he would forgive her. He opened the envelope and took out the letter, he might as well read it, and he unfolded the paper and read.

"Vernon.

We have gone, do not try to find us, you will not be able to anyway. We have had enough of your unreasonable behaviour. Your actions tonight were the final straw, you have driven us out and we won't be back. We have given you every opportunity to behave reasonably, learning from your mistakes as we have. If you can't accept the rest of our family, then you will never truly accept us for who we are, rather than who you want us to be.

Petunia and Dudley."

Vernon reread the note twice, each time he felt his anger rise further, the glass broke in his hand as he tightened his grip around it. His temper rose again as a result. What did she mean she had left, where could she go? What had been wrong with his behaviour? What mistakes? What family? She couldn't mean the boy could she? He was gone and good riddance, no longer a burden on him or his family. He had been perfectly reasonably behaved in the face of their treachery he believed. He fumed for a moment, building his anger, snorting like a bull preparing to release its onslaught on a tormentor. Then suddenly he balled the paper in his fist and charged round the house. Her clothes had gone, and so had Dudley's, only his son had left behind, the electronic gadgets. He noticed other things were missing too, but one thing had been left behind. He felt the vein in his temple begin to throb as his anger grew when he saw it; Petunia's wedding ring was on the dressing table.

The large man allowed his fury to continue to build as he stared at the narrow gold band on the polished surface before turning, he charged, back down the stairs, which shook, rattling every wall. The house shaking from the weighty impact of his angry steps, a picture of the three Dursley's fell, the frame and glass breaking. He grabbed his car keys from the hook, almost ripping it from the wall, not that he noticed as he stormed out of the house and into his car. Slamming the door shut, then swearing as he fumbled to get the key into the ignition. Finally inserting the metal into the slot he turned it and the engine roared to life as he slammed the car into gear and screeched onto the road leaving twin black lines of rubber on the drive. He would teach them to leave him after all he had sacrificed for them, when he found them, he would show them what reasonable behaviour was, how dare they leave him without his permission, they were his family, he was in charge, he made the decisions in this relationship not them. No one left him until he decided they would, but first he had to find them, he would find them and drag them back. He steered the car out of town, heading towards London, knowing he could be a long way behind them, but certain he would track them down.

* * *

As dawn broke, red and orange reflecting in the sky over the new day, Dudley and Petunia were almost 200 miles north of London and had been speeding up the motorway for the last few hours. Dudley was tiring by now so they pulled into a service station as the sun began to cast its light over the Yorkshire countryside, to rest and get something to eat. Although they had driven all night, they still had no specific destination in mind, after driving aimlessly round the southern counties they had happened on the western side of the M25 almost without realising they had been heading back towards Surrey. They had ended up simply following it until they had turned off to head north, memories of their time in Derbyshire drawing them up the country. They had in fact diverted from the motorway and driven through the village, but had not stopped. They had seen that the post office which they had run was now being operated by others, so with regret and the realisation that it was a place Vernon may look for them, they had driven on and re-joined the northbound carriageway of the motorway.

Sat in the restaurant of the service station, not far from the motorway, they ate full English breakfasts and drank coffee, while they talked over their options. The restaurant was beginning to fill an hour later, as they finished their meals and left to return to the car. Dudley opened the door, knowing they still had no specific destination in mind; they were just going to continue to head north. He regretted that they could not return to the Derbyshire village in many ways, it was after all the place he had learnt much about himself. He was about to get in the car when he heard a flap of wings and something heavy land on his car, he looked up wondering if the local wildlife was trying to dive bomb them.

"Tiberius." He said surprised, but recognizing the owl that offered him its leg, where a letter was attached.

Petunia looked up. "Harry's owl?"

"Yes." Dudley replied taking the letter from the owl's leg and opening it. "Harry and Ginny are back at home, he says we are welcome any time and hopes we are fine. He will tell us about their trip round France when we see him."

"Dudley, Harry will help us, I'm sure of it." Petunia cried out as if the obvious had just occurred to her, which of course was what had happened.

"I am sure he will as well, it's the safest place we can go. It would have saved us a lot of driving that's for sure, can't believe I didn't think of it before." Dudley smiled. "Fancy a ride home in my car Tiberius?"

The Owl hooted and flew to sit in a space between the boxes stacked in the back of the car, luckily there were very few others in the car park and no one noticed the Owl.

"Oh, err, Dudley, are you sure he will be all right in the car?" Petunia looked nervous of the owl.

"You'll be fine won't you Tiberius, no flapping or squawking while I am driving though, okay fella?" Dudley smiled getting into the driver's seat. The owl hooted gently and settled where he had perched staring straight forward.

Petunia apprehensively got in the passenger side. "Well if we are going to Harry's, I will have to get used to owls, I suppose. Where does he live Dudders?"

Dudley started the engine. "London mum and we are just south of Leeds, so it's about three and a half hours drive, depending on traffic. At least we can go direct into London this time, not round it on the M25. That took ages last night after we got onto it, one day I shall work out where we actually went you know. Once we get to London, I know where and how to get to his house from Charring Cross road, but part of the house's protection means I can't actually tell you the address. Oh yes and when we get there, you won't be able to see his house until Harry or Ginny tells you the address, mind when they do, it's well worth it."

Petunia looked worried. "Are you serious? They really need that much protection?"

"Mum you saw how important he is in his world at the wedding and how complicated his life has been, there are still people out there who would dearly love to kill him. He is heavily protected and while we are there we will be too, don't worry its fine and I think you will love his house, they have done a great job on it."

They re-joined the motorway, which was getting busier and turned round at the next junction to head back south to the capital, Tiberius swaying happily with the motion of the car, watching the road ahead intently.

* * *

Vernon had failed to track down his wife and son; he sat back in the kitchen of his house as dawn broke. He had re read the crumpled note several times since he got back; it had not left his hand after he had balled it up before he had left the house. He continued, trying to glean some clue as to where his wife and son had gone, convinced that once they realised they had nowhere to go, they would return. He sat waiting as the minutes turned to hours, still he could see no clue, still they did not return. He heard the mantle clock in the front room strike eight o'clock; he stood and went back to his car and drove to work, certain that they would have returned when he got back. He would pretend nothing untoward had happened, whilst there and that everything was as usual.

* * *

Mrs. Figg was waiting too, last night she had Flooed Hestia and Dedalus, she had told them what the neighbours had witnessed. She had watched as Mr. Dursley had returned and heard his car screech away not long after. She had waited for him to come back and then, when he had, she had nervously waited to see what he would do. She was worried that he would come over the road to her house, to demand she tell him where his wife and son had gone. She didn't know where Petunia and Dudley were, that worried her, but not as much as how she could convince Vernon of that. She was a squib; she would not be able to defend herself against that large angry man if he came. Her friends could not come when she had called, but they would arrive this morning. She breathed a sigh of relief, watching him leave with his brief case knowing he was going to work, trying to make it look just like any other morning.

Now she awaited the arrival of her friends, they would stay with her in case Vernon came round during the rest of the day and became nasty. They had a plan, but would only act on it when they knew that Dudley and his mother were safe. With Harry now in the magical world Mrs. Figg's first task, the reason she had moved into this house, was complete. With the change in Dudley she had then watched over him too, until now. If he and his mother had truly left, then this task was at an end and she would move with Dedalus and Hestia into the small group of flats she owned in a house near St Mungo's. She had lived there before Dumbledore had asked her to keep an eye on Harry, the house itself had been her husbands, when he had died she had divided it into three flats, one for her, the other two for her husbands and her oldest friends. They had looked after the place during the years she had lived in Privet Drive, the house Dumbledore had ensured was now hers as well. She was worried for the thin woman and her son; she had hoped to have received a message by now that they were safe, perhaps at Harry's, which she thought was the most obvious place for them to go. Harry would not turn them away, despite the way he had been treated by them as a child, she knew Harry and Ginny better than that, but so far there had been no reassuring note or Floo call. This could only mean they had not gone to the newlyweds for help, at least not yet.

At nine O'clock her friends arrived, Apparating directly in to the house, they sat in the living room discussing what to do, hopping to hear from Petunia or Dudley. They would stay here until they either heard from them or it was too dangerous to stay, they knew that when Vernon returned he would have guessed the old lady might have some information and were not going to leave her alone now.

* * *

Harry and Ginny had risen later than usual that morning; they enjoyed their customary bath together before going down to the kitchen for breakfast as had also become their habit when at home. Andromeda and Teddy, were due to visit later in the morning, they were looking forward to a day relaxing with their friend and godson. Being their first day back from honeymoon they also knew there was a very good chance of a visit from one or two of the Weasley's, the family knew they were welcome any time so the chances of a visit were high. It was one of the things Harry enjoyed about Ginny having such a large family; they looked after each other and had a great social life together. He could not remember having had that, until he had met the Weasley's, though he guessed he maybe did have such a life before his parents had been killed. Now he was, for the first time he could remember, a welcome part of a family, not that being friends with Harry had been easy or safe, because of the essential security that had gone with being close to him. The security could have created difficulties for the family on occasions, difficulties they had accepted willingly and without complaint. The couple finished their breakfast then made their way up to the sitting room to await the arrival of Teddy. As they climbed the stairs up to the Hall, the doorbell rang.

"It's all right Kreacher; it's probably Andromeda and Teddy. I'll get it" Harry called down stairs to the elf.

Ginny waited in the hall expectantly, as Harry went to open the door.

* * *

Dudley steered the car into the London square, they had managed a relatively clear run almost to London, before hitting traffic heading into the City, but at last they had reached their destination. "This is it mum." He told her.

"You mean Harry owns one of these houses?" Petunia asked looking at the large buildings surrounding the grassy square. Some of them looked tatty, but others were either in the process of being smartened up or had been done recently, it was obvious that restoration works were being done to the once opulent square.

Petunia was impressed that her nephew lived this close to central London, it was clear that much money was being spent to return the houses to their former glory, even so these houses would not have been cheap and made the house at Privet drive look tiny in comparison.

"Yep, his Godfather left it to him remember, he and Ginny have redecorated it and furnished it, it's a lovely house." Dudley told her.

"We can't park out here though Dud, where can we leave the car." Petunia had noticed the signs mounted on the lamp posts indicating only those with residents permits could park in the square.

"Don't worry mum, Harry has a workshop where I can park the car, getting in is a bit of a knack though, I'll need his help, I'm sure he will sort it. Right here we are mum." Dudley pulled the car over and parked it. "Wait here with the car please Mum, I will go and tell Harry we are here, I shan't be a minute and I shall be able to see you from his door, even though you can't see it yet. You coming with me, or waiting here Tiberius?"

The owl hooted as Dudley got out of the car, Petunia got out as well; wanting to stretch her legs after the journey and Tiberius hopped to the door, stretched his wings and flew onto her sons shoulder.

Dudley laughed. "All right then fella, if you are comfortable there, I'll take you, I won't be long Mum."

Petunia watched as Dudley headed between two houses and vanished. Looking at the houses around where he had disappeared noticed that oddly the house next to number eleven, was number thirteen. She felt incredibly alone as she stood by the car, although she knew her son was mere yards away, although she could neither see nor hear him.

Dudley climbed the steps of number twelve, which he had watched reveal themselves as he had parked the car outside it. He rang the bell and waited. It wasn't long before his cousin opened the door.

"Dudley!" Harry exclaimed surprised, but not upset. "We weren't expecting you cousin, I see Tiberius found you though." He smiled.

"Yes he did Harry, err… we need your help, I have mum with me, we didn't know where else to go." Dudley said sheepishly as Tiberius flew into the house.

Harry looked into the street, he saw his aunt next to the car full of luggage. "You two have left Privet Drive haven't you?" He said, Dudley nodded and Harry took control. "Right, let's get Aunt inside and the car off the street."

Ginny had heard everything, she walked past them saying, "I'll bring Petunia in she will not want to go through the workshop. You two deal with the car." She said.

"Yes dear." Harry replied cheekily, but they followed her down the steps to the car anyway.

Petunia watched as first Ginny, then her nephew alongside Dudley appeared, as if out of thin air and crossed he path towards her. "Morning Aunt, glad you have come." Harry said cheerfully as she ran to greet them. "Welcome to Grimmauld Place, Ginny will take you inside whilst Dudley and I get the car into the workshop, we'll deal with your luggage once all is inside."

"Thanks Harry, I am sorry about landing on you so unexpectedly, I'm afraid things came to a head last night and we had to get away. Mind you, I can't wait to see the home you two have made for yourselves." She replied.

"Oh yes of course, I forgot you hadn't been before, you need to read this, don't say it out loud though Petunia." Said Ginny handing her a slip of parchment.

Petunia read the parchment, which disintegrated when she had finished, she looked up and saw number twelve Grimmauld Place appear, seeming to push the other two houses out of its way.

"Good grief." She said surprised "Did it really just move the houses out of the way."

"No, it's always there, you just need to know about it to see it, though it does look like that, I know. I will hear no more apologies either; you are family and more than welcome so come on in." Said Ginny Kindly. "Let's get you a drink, you look exhausted."

Ginny took the older woman's arm and the two ladies went to the door while Harry and Dudley got into the car.

"Ready Dud?" Smiled Harry, knowing his cousin thoroughly enjoyed what they were about to do.

"Sure am Harry, I love this bit" Dudley grinned, expectantly looking at Harry who laughed, then tapped the road with his wand and closed the door as the car began to sink below the road.

Petunia turned as she entered the house and started as the car sank down through the tarmac.

"Don't worry; they'll join us in a moment, once the car is parked." Ginny reassured her, guiding her in and closing the door.

Kreacher was waiting in the hall, for them to return, knowing his master and Mistress had gone out of the house, he knew it could not have been Madam Tonks at the door. Ginny led Petunia towards him "Kreacher, Harry and Dudley are in the workshop, they will be up in a minute can we have some drinks please, Andromeda will be here soon with Teddy."

"Yes Mistress, would Masters Aunt like me to take her coat?" The elf asked.

Petunia removed her coat and handed it to Kreacher. "Please call me Petunia, Kreacher"

"That would not be proper Madam Petunia; you are a guest in my Master and Mistress's house." He said shocked.

"Don't worry Kreacher, Petunia is not used to house elves, she was being polite." Ginny soothed.

"Very well Mistress." He said and popped away.

Ginny took Petunia into the sitting room and explained about house elves. Petunia was at first surprised, then amazed as she understood the relationship. She apologized to Kreacher for the misunderstanding, when he arrived with the drinks.

"That's quite all right Madam Petunia; I should have remembered you are unfamiliar with our world." The house elf bowed. "Should you require anything whilst you are here, please just call for me."

Harry and Dudley walked in laughing. "I love that ride into the workshop, it's just brilliant." Dudley chuckled as they joined the women.

Harry picked up his drink "Well it is good to see you, but you both look like you have been up all night."

"We have Harry." Said Dudley "Your guess was right, we have left Privet Drive."

Petunia and Dudley told them the story of the night before and how they were now homeless, Harry looked at Ginny who nodded.

"Of course they can Harry, you know that." She said.

"Right, first you are not homeless; we have plenty of space if you want to stay. Second we shall, if you wish, get you registered with the Ministry so you can live and work in the magical community. That said, we must let Mrs. Figg know you are safe, if Vernon works things out she could be in danger from him. Then we shall let George know you are here and importantly Maria, both of them have been worried not to hear from you, we are told." Harry said.

"Well that's all fine with me Harry." Said Dudley.

"Yes, a fresh start would be good for me too; I certainly won't be going back to that man." Petunia said determinedly, a flicker of pain flashed over her face which then softened as she turned to Ginny. "I was wondering if I could talk with your mum too Ginny. It would be good to talk to Molly about things and find out about the life my sister found here." she asked.

"Of course, tell you what, let us deal with the other things while you both rest, I will invite mum and dad for dinner, give you chance to talk." Ginny said, as the doorbell rang. "Ah that will be Andromeda and Teddy, here for the day. Kreacher will sort out rooms for you then go and get some sleep, if either of you want a bath he will sort that out for you, he will get your luggage to your rooms as well. Don't worry, he has magic to help him and will love it. We might go out with them during the day, but don't worry Kreacher will be around anyway."

Kreacher came in with Andromeda as usual led by Teddy who ran to Harry and Ginny, "Hello Teddy" Grinned Harry "We brought you something back from France."

"Oh Harry are you spoiling him again," Grinned Andromeda, sitting next to Petunia "Hello Petunia, good to see you again. We met at the wedding, remember? So how have you been?"

Petunia did remember and the two ladies chatted while Ginny asked Kreacher to sort out rooms for the two Dursley's and retrieve the luggage from the car.

Dudley and Teddy kept each other entertained, allowing Harry to busy himself at the fireplace, contacting everyone they needed to, starting with Mrs. Figg. The relief to hear from him was palpable, she was pleased to hear Dudley and Petunia had arrived safely at Grimmauld Place. Dedalus and Hestia were with her and Harry promised they could visit as soon as they liked once Arabella was settled back in her flat with them. The next call was to Kingsley, who promised to help Mrs. Figg move that day for her safety and sent a ministry maintenance crew to help her. That done he agreed to bring the necessary paperwork over to help Petunia and Dudley. When he called George, he immediately offered Dudley a job in Wheezes, he wanted help developing some new lines based on Muggle jokes, as well as some suitable for the Muggle Market, who better to get that off the ground than Dudley. Then Harry contacted Maria, she was excited and relieved to hear Dudley was now in the Wizarding world, Harry invited her to dinner that evening and she readily accepted keen to see Dud again. Harry knew she would have no problem getting past the security, Ginny had given her the address at the wedding, but Maria had no idea where the house was and her parents preferred her not to use the Floo until she knew the location she would be arriving at. They had been unable to attend the New Year Party when special arrangements had been made by the ministry to get people past the wards, even though her father worked there, so Harry suggested she came via the Burrow. Her parents accepted this idea so he promised to call her back after he had spoken to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to make sure they were coming and happy with the arrangement. That was his next call, Molly agreed to bring Maria and was delighted to come for dinner, and that she would let Arthur know. So Harry let Maria know to be at the Burrow in time.

All calls made, Ginny and Harry took the Dursley's to their rooms where they left them to rest. Today was not going to be as quiet as they had expected, but then they didn't mind, when had life ever been quiet for Harry.

* * *

 **Late tenth Century, Tang, near Jorvik.**

It was almost time for the midday meal before Utred's father could move again, by then he had been carried into his hall to be laid on his bed, unmoving until whatever had happened at the training session wore off. The others affected had been carried to the barrack building to recover, where they had been out of sight, but they knew too many had seen what had happened for it to be kept quiet this time. The men were understandably upset by the incident, but his father dismissed them and their concerns of the incident, even so he spoke to Utred. "I don't know what you did boy, but by Odin; it would be bloody useful in battle, or suicidal depending who you did it to." He said in his gruff tones, happily slapping his son on the back before turning to receive a horn full of beer and bowl of food. "Try it while you are out hunting over the next few days and you might have the best catch ever Utred." He added after draining the horn.

Utred revelled in his father's praise, but truth be told he had no idea how he had done it, let alone if he could do whatever it was again. It was yet another strange occurrence around him, to add to all the others that could not be easily explained.

Utred had loved hunting ever since his father had first taken him, when he was six, shortly after his battle training had started. It had not been a very successful trip, he was not, at that age, good at silent tracking, but he had thoroughly enjoyed trying and was keen to please his father by learning the skills required. Over the following months and years he learned the arts of tracking, capturing, killing and butchering the forests animals ready to be prepared for storage or immediate use when they returned home. It had been, alongside his battle training, one of the most enjoyable aspects of his childhood. It was now one that he had become very skilled at. So much so that he was regarded as one of the best hunters in the household, so although he was yet to prove himself as a warrior, he was definitely proven as a skilled huntsman. He could move almost silently through the undergrowth, recognising the tell-tale signs of a beast moving through the forest, or the movement of leaves and branches in the canopy above, where birds moved. He could approach the fowl on the lakes without them taking flight and his skill at catching fish with spear or hand was unrivalled. Hunting of course provided food for the family and community to supplement what they raised or grew for themselves. The skins also provided blankets and clothes, or could even be traded. As could those from the beasts they raised, raw Bones and Antler was often sold to craftsmen in Jorvik, who shaped them into combs, dice or pins amongst other useful items once they had been dried. Utred had two bones that had been fashioned into a pair of ice skates, which he often tied to his shoes in winter, whenever the becks and rivers froze; he as well as others pushed themselves over the ice with poles, a swift way to reach the city, whilst others struggled through snow. Of course Antler could also be collected when the deer shed it each year in readiness for a new set to grow, if you could find it in the dense forest, but if a stag was caught in the hunt, why waste any part of it that could be used? So hunting was not just for the fun, which he enjoyed, but it also provided important materials, which could be traded or used by the small community with his father at its head.

As Utred was one of the best huntsman in the community now, it was almost a foregone conclusion that he would be amongst those who went hunting for supplies ahead of the Yule feast, a much more indulgent festival than the sober Christian Christmas, full of church and clergy, that would begin a few days after the Winter solstice festival was over. He looked forward to each hunting trip he could go on, which was at least once a month in the autumn and winter, but this one was the most special to him. Over the years he had killed many a boar and deer in these woods, even a wolf or two on the occasions when he, or those he was with had been attacked by the canines, whose fur was prized, even the meat was good to eat.

After they had eaten next to the fire in his home, Utred rode his stallion out of the gates of Tang. Riding either side of him were his usual companions, Ulf and Erik, two of his Father's most trusted men. The two had usually accompanied Utred on hunts these days, they had a dual role, hunting and as the body guards of the future Lord. The three got on well, knew each other's style and trusted each other. That was important when stalking the woods, with spears and arrows, for obvious reasons. As a team and individually they were the best huntsman his father had, which was why they were the ones to go on this occasion, this was to be the last hunt before the mid-winter feast. The meat they brought home would be the basis of the largest feast of the year. Utred relished the chance to make a good catch, in readiness of at least four days of festivities.

As they made their way to the small hunting lodge deep in the forest, the two men teased Utred about the morning's incident. He, as usual to such comments, responded rudely, laughing along with the men. It took an hour of fast riding to reach the lodge where they tethered the horses in the small fenced compound next to the lodge, dumped their bags of clothes and food, then immediately went hunting, before darkness fell.

Utred's grandfather had built the lodge, as a base, for the regular hunts. It meant that the hunters did not need to cut their day short to return to Tang, instead they could shelter there and start early, finishing late without worry of the forest spirits and Sceadugengan which came out in the darkness to hunt men. It also enabled them to hunt much deeper in to the forest than they otherwise could, during the last four days they had hunted far from Tang, in dense undergrowth. The lodge was old and was a simple rectangle, large enough for up to seven hunters, with a separate storage area for the catch. The Wattle and Daub woven walls were old but well maintained, although covered in moss and growth, supporting a heavy roof made of branches covered in the forest turf, a hole at the ridge allowed smoke from the central fire to escape. There was a wooden door at one end, which could be locked with a padlock to prevent anyone who stumbled across it from being able to occupy it. The windows were simply square holes with wooden flaps, which could be fastened to the frame to secure and cover them, but they held no glazing as some in the city did. Inside as well as the storage, there were seven simple beds that had been made by driving posts into the earth, then stretching animal skin between them as a mattress they had brought fur blankets to cover themselves with in the bags from Tang. The beds were arranged around a central fire place, the fire providing heat and light as well as the way of cooking their meals. A metal tripod over the fire provided a support from which the cooking pot hung, when all had taken food from it, the last to take a portion added more meat and ingredients to the stew to replace what had been taken, ensuring there was food cooked ready when needed. Twenty feet from the hut, which stood in a small area, clear of trees, but protected by the canopy of branches above, were three hurdles around a pit. Fixed above the pit was a plank with a large hole bored through, this was a place they only visited when they absolutely had to, the cesspit, bundles of moss hung on the hurdles where they could easily be reached. Utred had learned, painfully, at an early age to check there were no thorns, nettle leaves or twigs in the moss before using it to clean himself after using the pit.

The forest was a dangerous place at the best of times, but now as winter was beginning to hit available food, wild animals stalked prey and hunted anything they could eat. Wolves were an obvious danger, but far more dangerous to them were the Boar. The pigs would attack on sight, the only warning a brief crashing through the undergrowth before the large animal struck, knocking its victim over then turning to charge again, this time its tusks would be lowered and were as effective on flesh as a sharp knife. These omnivores had been known to kill the unwary who wandered into their territory, then devour any flesh they desired, certainly given the chance they would eat small animals as well as the vegetation. It was these fearsome beasts they would hunt that day, the first kill would provide their meat for the days of hunting.

Silently the trio crept through the scrub between the trees, watching for traces of the movement of a boar. Utred spotted a fresh pile of droppings and some damaged branches of a shrub indicated which direction the animal had gone. He waved his companions over, they began to stealthily follow the trail of clues they knew to look for. They tracked the beast for over a mile, following the fresh damage and occasional trotter tracks left where the ground was soft. Finally they spotted the large boar grazing beneath a large Oak tree, scuffing up the earth with its snout for grubs, worms or even truffles. The two men and the boy silently moved through the trees to get a clear throw with the long spears they had brought with them for today's hunt, tomorrow and afterwards they would add arrows to their weaponry as well as carrying swords. They reached what they judged to be the best position, the beast had not noticed them yet, it was still grunting as it fed. Utred would throw the first spear, if he hit the beast just right it would die instantly, if not the other two would throw their spears before the boar could run off injured with the spear into the forest. Utred reached a spot where he could get a clear shot, he slowly, silently raised his spear, taking his time to be careful in his aim, he knew it was better to miss the chance than to rush and potentially injure the animal only for it to escape and possibly die slowly, suffering. Still the boar had not detected them, so Utred prepared to throw, he put as much power behind the spear as his arm would allow and thrust the long weapon through the air. The spear flew almost silently, at speed straight towards its target, the boar heard it at the last moment and raised its head, just as the blade hit, square in its side, the beast squealed briefly, then dropped to the ground with a heavy thud, the spear had pierced its heart, killing it almost before it knew it had been hit.

"Good throw Utred, a clean kill." Erik smiled and they went to collect the large beast, their meal for that evening, breakfast for next morning and for the next few days secured.

They quickly removed the spear, which was deeply embedded in the side of the mighty beast and lashed it alongside the others they carried then tied the Boar to it by the legs, making it easier to carry back to the lodge through the trees. The need for stealth gone, they could now crash directly through the scrub, two carrying the prize, whilst the third would defend them from threat if needed, which it rarely was, the noise they were making would scare most beasts off, to scurry away into the forest.

The next day started just as each day whilst they were at the lodge would. Having risen they would ensure the horses were tended before an hour's weapons practice for Utred. After that they would eat breakfast then they would gather the weapons needed before going out on the hunt. As each kill was made, if it was a large animal such as a deer or boar, the carcass would be taken back to the lodge store to await processing. If it were a small animal they would place it in a sack, they each carried one, which they emptied each time they returned to the lodge. Evenings were spent carrying out the basic butchery and filling the barrels that had been brought out on carts during the week before, ready for the hunt. The trio would also spend time training, wrestling, playing dice or Hnefatafl, exchanging tales, eating and drinking the ale in the large Butt that had also been brought out for them, before settling to sleep in the warm lodge after which the cycle would start again.

They spent the next four days hunting in the forest around the lodge, catching two dozen boar and a similar number of deer in that time as well as numerous partridge, hare, pheasant, duck, geese and pigeon, as well as a few Squirrels which had emerged from their drays to hunt for food. The trio were cheerful as they sat at the lodge, awaiting the arrival of a cart to ferry the meat back to Tang, it would be a good celebration this year, with far more meat than they would need, meaning the surplus could be salted and preserved for use later in the winter too.

The first boar they had caught had been large enough to provide the three men with their meat during the whole of the four days, the rest of the kill would be transported to Tang by a wagon, that had been due to arrive by lunchtime, together with some of the land workers from the lands around the settlement. They were overdue, the meat was already butchered. They had spent the evenings doing the task, ensuring the meat would keep. They had barrels full of blood for black pudding other barrels full of the offal that were to be transported with the partly butchered meat. The carcasses had been left whole, except for the removal of the offal, skin and any antlers from the deer, ready for preparation for the feasts to come and the process of preserving the surplus to take place. The Skins would be tanned by their own tanners, before being either traded or used within the community; the antler would be sold or bartered with whichever trader in the city gave the best price. It was a very good haul to add to the salted meat and fish caught in the river and lakes earlier in the year that was in store already back at the hall, several of the cattle and sheep may be added, there would be plenty of meat for the hundred mouths that would be at the feasting, more if friends from elsewhere arrived in time.

They sat laughing and talking, on a fallen tree trunk that had been dragged next lodge at some time, waiting for the overdue transport, their horses restless nearby. Smoke curled lazily from above the fire as they chatted and watched for the wagon's arrival, it was long past lunchtime, the land slaves were late, they were beginning to fear that something must have gone wrong. Perhaps a wheel had come off and they were mending it, or one of the mules pulling it had gone lame, a nuisance certainly, but not unknown.

They waited, watching the glow of the sun behind clouds through the branches, an hour must have passed since they first began to get worried and the sun was already lowering in the sky. Soon it would be too late to load it and return home before dark, if that happened then there would not be room for them all in the lodge when the cart arrived, besides there was not enough in the pot for everyone.

"I believe we should go and find them, ensure they are on the way. We can do it before Dark if we set off on horseback now." Ulf suggested.

"One of us will need to stay here; we can't leave that amount of meat unguarded." Utred observed.

"Well it can't be you Utred, as the Lord's heir you cannot be left unguarded and anyway two ought to ride back, it's not a good idea to ride through the forest alone if it can be helped." Erik said firmly.

"So which of us goes with you on the ride is the real question." Ulf chuckled.

Erik and Ulf drew lots that Utred had prepared and held for them to draw from, it was the only fair way to decide which of them would stay at the lodge alone, guarding the results of their hard few days' work. Ulf lost so it was Erik and Utred who set off on their horses to search for the missing cart and slaves, galloping off down the track that lead back towards Tang.

* * *

With each stride that the horses they rode took along the track, that widened as other forest paths joined it the closer they got to the edge of the trees, Utred's anxiety grew, as they neared the edge of the forest Erik stopped their headlong gallop. "Utred, something is seriously wrong, no sign of the wagon that is two hours late can only mean one of two things. Either bandits have taken them or they never set off for some reason. I have never heard of bandits in this part of the woods, nor of any who would attack and steal an empty cart leaving nothing behind, such as the bodies of those with it. They cannot have lost their way, they brought the supplies out for us last week, they knew their way through the network of tracks in this forest, each of them has passed along it often enough to know the route by heart. There is only one thing that I can think of left, something is wrong at the hall of Tang, which prevented the cart setting off in the first place, there is no chance that it was simply forgotten to send it, your mother would never let that happen. Of that I am certain at least. We should approach cautiously from here, son of my lord." The Warrior concluded formally, knowing this would indicate the seriousness of what he said.

Utred thought for a moment, recognising the use of the formal address for what it was. "If there is trouble, should we not rush there to assist?" He asked.

"No, we have no way to know what the situation is until we have a chance, rushing in could make matters worse, besides we could ride into a trap that way. Not knowing what might have happened at Tang, or if anything has, we need to go with caution. I may be worrying about nothing, but we should have seen the wagon by now, or if it had been attacked, the bodies of slaves maybe, even if they had been hidden there should have been some sign of a struggle at the very least. Anyway as this is all odd, my first priority is to make sure you are not at unnecessary risk, please from here on in, follow my lead and do as I ask if I need to, son of my lord. Hopefully there is a simple explanation and all is well, but I am not going to take chances with your life just in case it is more sinister. " Erik told him thoughtfully,

Utred nodded his agreement and they walked the horses on, watching carefully for any signs of what may have happened. They soon saw the edge of the woods and Erik signalled for them to dismount. They tethered the horses off the track, to some trees so they could not be seen from it, then Erik indicated they were to proceed through the trees silently and led Utred into the undergrowth at the side of the track slowly, as if stalking an animal. They silently made their way to the edge of the woods, taking a much longer time to do so than was strictly necessary, falling to a crawl for the last twenty yards. They hid beneath a dense, evergreen bush just at the edge of the stand of gnarled trees where the forest gave way to the cleared land in which Tang stood. They crouched behind it and peered out over the clear view they had gained towards his father's hall.

The acrid scent of burning hung in the winter air as they took in the scene of devastation in front of them, the green grass showed patches of red stains. Utred slowly moved his gaze, bodies were left where they had fallen or had been dragged near the earthen bulk that had supported the wooden palisade, but the stakes and tree trunks that had made it were gone, blackened stumps were all that remained, the buildings inside burnt to the ground. Tang was gone and men were picking over the remains, hunting for anything of value they could find.

"A hall burning." Erik muttered in disgust. "Keep quiet, some of them will still be about."

No sooner had he spoken than a troop of half a dozen warriors, dressed in chain mail, swords in their hands, shields on arm and bright helmets on their heads, walked into view along the tree line from the right of where the two were hiding. The symbol on their shields showed the badge of their Lord, by which his presence on a battlefield would be known by enemy and ally alike. The black wolf, teeth bared, red eyed creature painted on the wooden disc's to scare enemy's, also told them that although the men themselves could be Northmen like themselves, they were the sworn men of a Saxon. Not just any Saxon either, but of the house hold of the puppet king. Utred held his breath as the six men passed within feet of the bush.

"There's no more alive here." They heard one say. "Why are we wasting time up here, there's none left to try to escape."

"No they're all dead now, shame about the woman, the king wanted her." Another added.

"Too loyal to that Norse scum of a husband, he would never have got her loyalty; the king didn't just want rid of these particular Norse, he wants their gold too. I've had enough of this, come on, they are trying to find his hoard down there, they find it we won't see a single coin if we aren't there when they do. Gather the others; it's time we showed them how to find treasure. " The first sneered.

"They haven't found the boy's remains in the hall though, I suppose the flames destroyed it, sometimes happens with ones so young. It was a ferocious blaze, like the fires of hell, the fools deserved to die like that." Another laughed, as the group made their way towards the destroyed compound.

Utred stared at the retreating figures in shock, taking in what the men had said, they had implied that everyone he had known was dead, his parents, his friends and they thought he was too, completely turned to ash in the deliberately set inferno. Everything he had known was gone; he wondered what he could do now. He had recognised one of the men; he knew that despite the shield the man had carried, he was not of the household of the King that had been in Jorvik when they had left Tang to hunt. Utred knew the man was sworn to another, a lord that had proved to be untrustworthy, although he did not know how that had been shown. He was certain that the man he had recognised was one he knew was sworn to the king's worthless brother.

They watched as the men headed for the black, still smoking, compound, one paused on the rampart and blew his horn. Utred counted thirty men gather and start sifting through the ashes, metal poles and spears being used to prod the ground, trying to find softer earth where a hoard could have been buried.

Erik looked to Utred. "My lord we must return to the lodge, as quickly as we can, then flee to the summer house. Your safety is essential to the survival of your house, now more than ever." He whispered

Utred's eyes widened, he realized what Erik had called him, the implications of his words. His father was dead, he might not have the ring, but he was the Lord of Tang, Lord Utred now. He opened his mouth to speak when the sharp crack of a twig breaking sounded, right behind them.

The two froze rigid where they lay, the sound of someone breaking that twig under their own weight, told them both they had been discovered. All they could do now was to await the order to stand or for the fatal impact of the sword that would surely come from above them, they were trapped.

* * *

 **Authors Notes:**

My thanks as always to Balthazar91 for his work as Beta for this story.  
My thanks also to those of you who reviewed chapter 1 and those who have favourited etc it as well.  
Best wishes  
Tgfoy

* * *

 **Historical Notes:**

The Forest surrounding Jorvik and in which they hunt was called Galtres forest.

Wolves and Boars were eventually hunted to extinction by Tudor times in the UK, however a successful project to reintroduce Boars has taken place recently in a number of modern forests, I am not aware of any plans to do the same with wolves.

It may surprise you that Rabbits were not on the list however whilst Hare is an indigenous animal to the UK Rabbit is not, being introduced into the wild after 1066 and the Norman invasion, which is after Utred's time.

Hall burnings were intended to eradicate an enemy whilst they slept and whilst seen as a dishonourable act were often used for political murder.

Nobles of the period often had a summer and winter residence as with Utred's family.

The lodge construction is based on archaeological evidence found from an entire street discovered in the 1970's in York but is of the first generation of buildings found, later ones were of boarded walls and had cellars. Interestingly in another part of the city another row of similar buildings, one reusing the planks from the hull of a ship has been unearthed in the last few years, from the same period adding to our understanding of the only known planned city of the period.


	3. Sword in Hand

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise from the books by J. K. Rowling remains hers and hers alone, I make no claim on them.

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

 **Sword in Hand.**

 **10th Century, on the edge of the forest of Galtres, overlooking Tang;**

The two men remained still where they lay, on the cold earth beneath the bush, hardly daring to breathe. Their hiding place overlooking the devastation of their destroyed home they discovered, they awaited for the almost inevitable death to fall from whoever it was behind them. Whoever it was had the advantage, the two men could not defend themselves, if they moved their foe would have time to strike before they were even on their feet or draw their swords.

They feared death far less than capture, their foes next actions would reflect what the spinners beneath the tree of life had decided their fate would be and which fate would amuse the Gods the most. If the order came for them to stand, then the intent would be to hold them as prisoners. If that happened then once they had been taken they would soon be recognized and then killed, eventually. First they would be dragged through the streets naked, the crowd encouraged to urinate on them and pelt them with rotten food or use knives to cut them, the citizenry would be encouraged to humiliate them as much as they could, and any who refused would be forced to join them. After the ritual humiliation they would be publicly tortured, for the enjoyment of those who had burnt their home. They would be forced to beg for mercy which would not be given, before they were slowly killed in the slowest, most painful and humiliating way their captors thought possible, their bodies then thrown into the nearest sty, for Swine to feed on. Their souls denied admittance to the feasting hall of Valhalla, never to feast, boast and fight with the dead warriors, never to lay with the women there, their humiliation lasting for eternity.

If the one who had discovered them decided that they would have no worth, then they would be killed at any moment where they lay, one getting the warning of the death of the other, neither being given the chance to fight back. If that was to be their fate, then they would at least have the chance to die with honour, their hands on the hilt of their swords. They awaited the voice calling for others to guard them and take them away, or the soft thud of a weapon followed by a brief exclamation of agony, as it landed in the other. Both men slowly moved their hands towards the handles of their swords, hoping to grasp them before a fatal blow struck. Utred found his, he grasped the hilt, but made no attempt to remove it, knowing that was futile, but hoping he could die like a warrior, gripping his weapon, the alternative was unthinkable for the son of a lord.

"My lord?" The hoarse voice whispered behind them.

They stayed silent had they really been seen; perhaps this was an enemy trick to flush out anyone hiding. As Erik pondered the problem the urgent hoarse whisper came again, slightly louder, the voice seemed familiar.

"My lord!" The voice repeated again in a harsh whisper. "Utred, Erik it is I, Orin."

Utred and Erik looked at each other, neither of them were certain was it really the old man? Utred suddenly realised an enemy was unlikely to call him my lord anyway, but he had to be sure, the old man could be under threat after all. Slowly, cautiously he turned his head to confirm it was Orin and that he was on his own, what he saw caused him to let out the breath he had not realized that he had been holding. Knelt behind them, head bowed in respect, hands outstretched in supplication, clearly showing he was unarmed, was indeed the oldest member of his fathers' household, Orin, he was alone.

The story of his father rescuing Orin from slavers, over twenty years before, was one Utred had heard many times as he had sat next to his father in the hall, both at Tang and Thwing, by the fire in the evenings. Each time the tale was told it was slightly different, embellished perhaps, such was the nature of relating any account from memory. The details may change with the retelling, but the basic story had remained the same, it's familiarity a comfort as it was related by either one of them.

Utred's father and his men had been defending a settlement in the south west of Northumbria. They had beaten back the enemy, Welshmen trying to raid the crops of the area and freed the Norse prisoners they held, Orin amongst them. Utred senior had been guiding the prisoners away when one of the Welsh raiders had leapt up. He had been feigning death, knife in hand to attack. Before his father had sensed the attack approaching swiftly from behind, Orin had sprung at the Welshman and killed him with the Welshman's own knife. This had begun a great friendship between the two men and Orin had stayed with the Lord ever since becoming a sworn man, even though he was too old to be a warrior. The man had found a home with Utred's family; his loyalty was beyond any doubt. He had served as one of his fathers most trusted advisors. This was all that was known of him though, the wise old man's life prior to the events that had brought him here was a mystery and he never spoke of it, Utred's father never pushed to find out.

The three crept back into the forest, careful not to disturb any branches, be seen, or heard by those who had destroyed their home.

"Orin, how did you survive?" Erik hissed, once they were deep enough into the trees that it was safe to speak in normal tones.

Orin spoke quietly, addressing them both, but mostly Utred as they helped the old man towards the horses. "They came when I was leaving the hall for the night, your parents had gone to bed, but the animals were restless, I had tried to calm them so they would not disturb your father, but I haven't your way with them my Lord. I guess the beasts must have sensed the men coming somehow, just like they know when you are going to take one of them. They captured me as I walked out of the door, the guards were already dead, throats cut and they made me watch as they set light to the hall and the houses. They killed any man who came to help, the women fought too, but were captured or killed, I was forced to watch as many of our friends were branded as slaves, then shackled and taken away. Your parents never left the hall my lord; they were killed in the doorway, their bodies given back to the flames, your father died with his sword in his hand." He told them sadly.

Utred was grateful for that news, it meant that his father would be in the feasting hall with the other dead warriors, sharing stories, feasting, fighting and whoring. At least his Father would have glory in death, a true Warrior's afterlife, as he deserved and had earned in this life.

Orin continued talking as they neared their mounts. "They slaughtered any who resisted; I was spared death for one reason only. To warn others that what had happened to the great Utred, would happen to any who defied the new King in Jorvik, such is the burden of being so old I suppose." The old man groaned. "They beat me, of course, taunted me, then sent me away, a useless old man, not even fit for slavery. They think you were in the hall too my lord, they believe you dead." He looked up at Utred for the first time, even in the growing darkness in the trees, they could see his face was covered in dried blood, one eye so swollen it was almost closed. "I knew you would come, I could not have walked all the way to the lodge, even if I could have made it they may have followed me, so I had to wait, out of sight, in the tree's, after they finally released me this morning. I knew you would come to find out where the wagon had got to, so I hid and waited for you. I watched you both arrive, but could not call to you, I watched as you dismounted, but by the time I got near the horses, you were gone. I had seen you head this way, away from where I had hidden, so came to warn you. I am sorry my lord, Tang is gone, there is more to tell you, but not here. I am glad I have found you, before they could get you, but the longer we are here the bigger the chance they will explore this track my Lord."

"Thank you Orin." Utred said reassuringly. "You have shown me the same loyalty, which you showed to my father. Come we will return to the lodge, then retrieve my father's horde, only then can we decide what we do next."

"My lord?" Erik looked puzzled.

"My father's wealth is not hidden at Tang Erik; the vermin back there will not find it no matter how much they search." Utred smiled, indicating the direction where the men were still searching his destroyed home for soft earth with their spears amongst the harder compacted soil, indicating filled in pits where wealth may be buried. "Though they will keep finding enough empty pits to keep them searching for a while yet." His smile grew bigger as he thought of the number of areas they would need to dig and still find nothing, but earth and empty chests left to encourage false hope, after all an enemy occupied in futile tasks was gaining nothing.

Erik and Orin snorted with amusement, it was a small comfort to know the murderers would gain no wealth from their victims, a measure of revenge certainly, but only a small one and not the one they wished they could serve up.

They reached where the horses were tethered, Erik helping Orin to walk, and then hitched him up onto the back of his own horse, leaving the second for Utred as was proper. A Lord would not ride with another man on his horse, not when there was an alternative, that privilege was reserved for his lady alone, when he had one. Erik then mounted behind the old man, holding him in place while still able to control the horse, whilst Utred got on his own mount.

"Orin, we must go as fast as we can, I'm sorry my friend, it will not be comfortable." Erik warned the man.

"I know, all that is important is to keep Lord Utred safe, until he is my comfort is not important, just ride."

"Orin, listen to me." Utred said. "If you are in too much pain, you must tell Erik, we shall stop and let you rest, understand."

"Yes my Lord, thank you." The man agreed knowing he would not, if he could at all help it.

They set off back into the dense forest as fast as they could, following the route back to the lodge, picking their way through the maze of well-worn tracks to different parts of the forest. They knew the correct route through them by heart, but for any who didn't it would take hours to check each one, with each junction they passed; they were becoming more and more secure from any who may search for them. With two men on one horse the journey was slower than when Erik and Utred had ridden in the opposite direction earlier, but it was still much faster than walking. Even so they slowed occasionally to allow Orin some relief, from the pain the rhythm of the horse's movement caused him because of his numerous wounds. The ride was not comfortable for the injured, elderly man, Utred wondered how many wounds the man had suffered that was not visible, he suspected it was many. He felt sorry for him, he had witnessed the murder and destruction of all he held dear, he alone had survived, for a warrior, even an old one that could no longer fight, that was a source of shame, one he had no control over. Which was why Utred had chosen his words carefully as they had spoken, absolving the man from the shame the man felt with his words of gratitude to him, demonstrating that he still trusted him by sharing the secret that the Horde was elsewhere. He did not want his father's friend to suffer more than he had to and definitely wanted him to know he still had a valued place in his household. Utred was glad this man, who had told him stories and sagas throughout his life, tales of myth as well as about his adventures with his father. One of Utred's favourites had been the story of an occasion when they his father's men had gone raiding north of the wall into the land of the Scots in retaliation for the people of those lands raiding the north of Northumbria. They had come across an abandoned village, in which a single cow had been bellowing to be milked. His father's men had eaten well that night, sharing the bounty with the villagers who returned from hiding that night, though they were one beast fewer. Both Orin and Utred's father had roared with laughter over their horns of ale, at the retelling of the story, one of many they had shared that evening.

He was truly glad the man had found them, Utred's father had relied on Orin for counsel on any matter and he alone had survived. It tempered the other losses more than Utred could understand; despite everything Orin's survival had pleased him greatly. Orin had a wealth of knowledge and was faithful beyond any doubt. He deserved Utred's respect and Utred would give it gladly, without question.

The new Lord used the ride to consider what they had seen at Tang and what they had heard from Orin. He knew that the old man knew more, but that had not been the place to talk, they had been too close to the enemy to spend more time than was necessary there, they needed somewhere safer. Orin, he knew, would tell them everything when they were safely back at the lodge or at least deeper in the forest. Still, Utred guessed at what could have happened to make it so the foe felt safe enough to attack his father, who had been in the old King's Witan.

If the old king had betrayed them, then why had he done so? He held only the power the Norse had allowed him, but had been happy to do so for over a decade of peace and increasing wealth. In fact such a move would be damaging to trade in the City and beyond, so why now? Something had changed, but what? His father had been a trusted advisor; his land at Tang had been a gift for bringing more wealth to the city in battle against those over the hills to the west and the wild men north of the wall. A powerful man, not to be dismissed or taken lightly, so what had changed? Why had his father been not sensed that trouble was brewing? Alternatively this was done without the Kings' knowledge, a rebellion, but who? Jorvik was generally peaceful, gathering wealth as a centre of trade from the known world, who would disrupt that by staging a coup? Word would spread through the ship owners and trade would fall as people thought the city unsafe, it would take years for word to spread otherwise and trade to return. Word of the trouble would be news, it would spread quickly from port to port, if it was over quickly and peace returned, that was not news and word would only spread slowly. The risks of a rebellion were high; failure would ensure a humiliating death for those who took part. Orin had mentioned a new King, which prompted Utred to remember the badges on the shields and the man he had recognised, had it been the King's Brother who had ordered the coup? He was wealthy certainly, but did he have the following to do such a thing? Certainly he hadn't been known for having many followers, especially any who could fight. It was clear, that he would only get answers once they could speak safely with Orin.

They had ridden for almost an hour before they stopped, to allow Orin to rest. Utred thought they were a little over half way back to the lodge. Although Orin did not ask for the break and had objected strongly that it was unnecessary, both Utter and Erik had insisted that it was. He had stoically endured his own suffering throughout the journey so far, yet Erik had noticed that the man's discomfort from his wounds was increasing; the old man had finally been in danger of falling the horse, taking Erik with him, as he was in so much pain. They left the track and stopped, tethering the horses hidden amongst the trees then, drinking ale from the leather bottles the two younger men had with them, talked.

"Orin, do you know what's been going on in Jorvik?" Utred asked, wanting answers to his pondered questions.

Orin knew Utred's question was more than it appeared. "I heard some talk whilst they held me, my lord. Your father had seen you off the other day and then went to the palace for a meeting of the Witan, all appeared well there, or at least that is what he said when he returned. Last night, with the ashes of Tang cooling and the women and children taken away to the coast to be sold as slaves, the Earslings boasted that once night fell the day of the Witan they had entered the Palace, killed the King and his household. From what I heard from them they then split up, leaving a new King in the palace, their leader. His men were to go to all the Norse nobles' halls within reach and burn them, the women taken as slaves except for the Lords' family who were to be murdered, their wealth found and stolen. The new King is another puppet, but not of ours, he sides with the Church and the Wessex Saxons."

"The Wessex Saxons? I thought we are at peace with them, though father never trusted them." Utred conceded, amazed the people from the south were behind the plot, the men they had seen were Northumbrian's, not from Wessex.

"The peace was always tenuous at best, my lord." Erik told him. "War was inevitable, just a matter of when and who would break the agreements first. They have not given up their desire that all England be under one king and one faith, they have never accepted Danelaw in Northumbria. We should never have allowed those priests to build their churches and gather wealth, but it was always better that a Saxon King sat on the throne with us in power behind him. It meant peace here with us integrating and bringing trade, but the Church in Wessex is greedy, it wants all the wealth of this island, not just the portion the Archbishop sends them. It will be the church that is truly behind it, mark my words. Any treaty with Wessex, or their allies, has to be ratified by their priests and they cannot be trusted, except to line their own pockets."

"Alfred's dream lives in Wessex, the Anglia's and Mercia; they only have the Welsh to worry about now Cornwall has formed an alliance with Wessex. In comparison, we have the Welsh, the Border men in the north and the internal trouble in the Pennines to worry about." Orin added. "The new King desires unification too; he aims to be that King of the whole country. I doubt he will be though; he's a puppet of the Archbishop and Church, put there by him to make it easier to get tax for the church and for Wessex to gain the wealth of the City and Northumbria. The Church's actions in placing him on the throne is supported by the Mercian Lords and the Wessex Kings, he just doesn't know it yet. The church will keep him in place until his usefulness is done and they can place their own King over England as Alfred desired."

"Alfred was a hero to Wessex, he forced Danelaw out of his country from a base in the middle of the marshes, he was a puppet of the Christian's too, yet his dream lives on still." Erik said bluntly.

"So who is this new King?" Utred asked. "A priest or someone else?"

"It's Styr, the old Kings brother." Orin spat. "The symbol on the shields told us that, but he came to gloat at the remains of your father's home too. He ordered me beaten, and then left the men you saw to finish the job taking most of his men back to the City. On the day of the attack he had supported his brother at the Witan against the Archbishop, who wanted the Norse to pay tax to the church again. As if we would agree to give that fat friar our gold, they have more than enough as it is. He was sworn to the King, there was no reason to doubt him, but all the time he was plotting with that spineless leader of the church of the nailed God in Jorvik. I have no doubt at all, that Styr has struck some kind of deal with the Christians to gain and keep power. He must have convinced them he is one of them. Though it was known in court he worships our Gods. It seems he has much in common with the Priests though, a loyalty to greed, he will have sworn an oath to them, or they would not have supported him." He finished disdainfully.

"So the traitor is on the throne as long as the church allows, which means as long as the Archbishop in Wessex allows, he commands the one in Jorvik and it is well known his church wants to expand their influence further. It makes sense that they would move to take power, though perhaps it is a surprise they do it now of all times. To take over effectively they would need my family and the rest of the Witan's households out of the way, or men would rally to us, at least they believe me dead, that gives us an advantage over them, a small one, but any is better than none." Utred said thoughtfully. "Wessex now controls Northumbria too, those over the western hills are Christian, they won't dare stand against them, they have all England it won't be long before they put Alfred's dream into place."

"Yes my Lord, at least the traitor does not know you were away when his and the church's men attacked, we must hope the lodge is too insignificant for him to bother with." Erik said bluntly.

"Or be prepared to defend it and die as Vikings." Utred said grimly. "What do we know of this usurper? Apart from he was the Kings brother and that he has the support of the church."

There was a moment's silence before Orin spoke again. "Styr is said to have powers of the supernatural, gifts from the Gods his wife does too. It was never said of the old King, as far as I know at least, but rumour is Thorfin, their son, inherited them from them as well. He must have convinced the church that they have not got such talents, or they would have never aligned themselves with him. Mind, some say that you have those powers as well, my Lord."

"People say a great many things." Utred said ironically, knowing Orin found his talent's for healing fascinating and had been highly amused at the incident the other day whilst he had been training. "All I know is that I must take revenge for my father's murder and the theft of my families lands at Tang. Knowing that, it is as well to know who it is I must make pay, when the time comes."

The other two nodded in agreement, though they had no suggestions how the revenge could be achieved quickly. All three knew they would need men, an army of at least three thousand fighting men to take Jorvik and regain the land. Styr would probably rarely leave the City without a large number of men, including the Archbishop's men, alongside the Royal guard; he would not be an easy target. That though would also be a problem for the church when the time came that they wanted him out of the way to allow their preferred King to take the Northumbrian throne. That said if they could find any men of the Norse Lords who Styr had targeted, then they might join Utred's quest for revenge, building his household, but they would take time to find and Utred would need to build reputation to have such men swear loyalty to him. The immediate worry was to keep Utred safe and find somewhere to live to gather men, which would not be easy.

"Come on." Erik said breaking the tension of the conversation. "We must resume our journey now if we are to have a chance of reaching the lodge before nightfall. We should consider what we do next once we get there, once we have told Ulf the news and he can help advise you my Lord."

Utred agreed. "Good idea Erik, you three are now my household and most trusted advisors, sorry Orin, but we must go."

They mounted the horses again and set off with renewed purpose, they had to tell Ulf what had happened, he had also lost his family and friends after all. Ulf, Erik and Orin were all the men left of Utred's household now. The lodge may well be all that was left of his lands, unless the summerhouse in the hills, far to the east of the City had survived, though Utred doubted it. He was sure that his father's other hall would be targeted, even if it had not been already, it was after all what he would have done in the enemy's place, ensuring the power base of the one who you opposed was gone. Still they would need to make the journey to the estate, to make sure of its fate, it would not do to ignore the possibility it remained and was safe, no matter how slim. First, though, he would need to hear the advice of all the members of his household, they would all decide the best way forward when they had spoken.

Orin was biting back his pain once more, as they set off with renewed purpose, Utred with more to consider as they went. They didn't stop again on the way to the lodge, though for Orin's comfort they still did not go as fast as they could have without him, but there was no question of leaving him behind. Utred and Erik remained alert for any danger, while Orin dealt with his obvious pain; they had to reach the comparative safety of the lodge before darkness brought other threats with it.

The forest at night was a dangerous place, they knew and not just from the wild beasts who called the brush beneath the trees home. It was also home to the supernatural, but most dangerous of all were the Sceadugengan, dark spirits, some said of men that had died in shame, which emerged at night, waiting to prey on the unwary. They loved the darkness and cold, moving silently, invisibly to most, bringing hopelessness with them. Their racking breath merging with the sounds in the trees, it would be the last thing a victim heard as they succumbed to a fate worse than death. The evil spirit denied the victim any afterlife, but did not just inhabit woodlands, but dwelt where ever there was no light, spreading across the country at night. These tormented spirits drifted the lands and forests each night casting their frosty presence, spreading hopelessness on all nearby, seeking the living to feed on. No one who was unfortunate enough to be attacked by one was ever the same again, driven mad by the touch on their souls. The fire at the lodge kept them at bay, Sceadugengan hated light and warmth, it was the only known defence against them, even the Christians, who denied the existence of them, kept fires lit at night, even in the summer. It was especially dangerous to be out travelling or in the forest on these short winter days, the thrill of escaping before sunset was part of why Utred loved hunting in this season.

Utred's thoughts began wandering over the skills he used whilst hunting, his father had once told him of a warrior elite, who could match the spirits stealth to launch surprise attacks from within an enemy's camp or strong hold, even spying on them. He had told Utred they were named after the Sceadugengan they so closely mimicked the movements of and that he would make a good one with his hunting skills. The feeling of pride he had felt at his father's words of sincere praise returned. He would need those skills if he were to gain vengeance for his family and friends.

It was almost dark when they finally reached the lodge, apart from the horse in the compound and a couple of fires that had been lit, the area appeared to be deserted, but they knew better. As they tied the horses next to the other, Erik had just helped Orin from the horse, when he felt the point of a sword in his back; he didn't react until the voice spoke.

"It is a good time for the Wolf to hunt." The familiar voice stated.

Utred smiled as Erik replied with the second part of the code. "But, not if you are a Raven."

"Welcome back Erik." Ulf answered, returning his sword to its sheath and embracing his friend. "And you too Utred, I take it there will be no wagon tonight."

"No!" Erik replied, baldly. "Much has happened, we are hungry and need to talk, Orin needs to rest, he is injured, let's go inside."

"Ah, before we do there is something you need to know." Ulf looked at them cautiously, almost sheepishly at their questioning expressions. "You aren't the only ones to have come along this way this afternoon."

"What do you mean?" Erik said, an edge to his voice. "Are they one of us?"

"If you mean did they pass the challenge? The answer is no, no they didn't, they are not from Tang, but I know him. He is from near to where I grew up, in Scotland." Ulf replied, "In fact he was the son of our Lord, we grew up knowing each other well, we trained together, I trust him and so did Lord Utred, at least he did the last time they met, a few years ago."

"My Father is dead Ulf." Utred replied. "Betrayed by a man he believed he could trust and the Church, Tang has gone."

Ulf's eyes widened in shock, he was silent for several moments, allowing the news to sink in, processing what it meant. He had a moment of realisation and the grief showed in his eyes, before he composed himself, straightened up and bowed to the youngster. "My Lord, I am sorry, your father was a great man."

Utred looked at Ulf. "He was murdered by Styr; along with everyone at Tang, except old Orin, he was left to spread the word. I am sorry for your loss as well Ulf, but with these recent events, we must be cautious who we trust. It seems Styr was prepared to betray even his own brother in his desire to rule, a desire he hid well, are you sure this stranger won't follow that example?"

"I am certain he will not betray us Lord." Ulf answered

Erik looked at Ulf. "Where is this friend of yours? Are you certain you can and want to vouch for him? Our Lord's life depends on it." He asked, caution in his voice.

"I will vouch for him; he is in the lodge waiting for me to find out who was approaching." Ulf replied with certainty.

"You are certain he can be trusted?" Utred asked one more time. "Your word on it, Ulf."

"My Lord, I would trust Lord Godric with my life, just as I trusted your father and trust you with it too. I would stake my reputation and sword on it if necessary." Ulf said firmly.

"My thanks Ulf, for such faith in me." A deep voice behind them said.

Erik and Utred instantly spun round, drawing their swords as they turned, ready to fight any threat. They faced the source of the unknown voice with emotionless courage, drawn swords and the fire of warriors in their hearts.

* * *

 **Late 20** **th** **Century.**

Molly was not a person who enjoyed having too much leisure time, nor having things done for her too often. It frustrated her to be idle, she lived to be busy. She also lived for her family, a family that had until now kept her busy, as she enjoyed being. She had been so pleased to hear from Harry and Ginny that morning, it had broken the monotony of the day for a few minutes for her, but that wasn't the only reason she had enjoyed hearing from them. Somehow it made the house seem occupied, busy even, yet so much had changed at the Burrow since the wedding. Ron had moved to Hogsmeade with Hermione, almost the moment the tidying up had been completed. A couple of days later, when Charlie had returned to Romania, she and Arthur were left alone at the Burrow. They had only ever had a few months alone in the Burrow before Bill had been born, she had heard so many couples say they looked forward to time alone after the children had left and although she loved her time on her own with her husband; she had never looked forward to her children leaving. The house felt so empty now, it was odd seeing the hands for her children on the clock pointing at home, meaning her children were in their own houses, not at the Burrow. She had thought she had got used to being alone at home after Ginny had started at Hogwarts, but this was different. All her children had now flown the nest; no longer did any of them call the Burrow their home. She no longer had their return from school, for the holidays to look forward to. They had all grown up; they no longer needed her to care for them. They could do that for themselves. She knew they deserved lives of their own and was proud of all of them, she also knew she would see them often, but it still felt lonely at the Burrow as she did her chores. Even they took no time at all, not these days, with only the two of them to make a mess, cook for or even do the laundry for. The garden was already looking neater than it ever had, even the veggie patch had been weeded so much that the smallest green leaf out of place glared out against the soil and so was eradicated as soon as it as seen. The gnomes had yet to return in any number, each expelled as quickly as it arrived. For the first time in her married life, Molly had time on her hands, hours of most days when she did not know what to do with herself, her purpose had gone and she felt lost.

Now Harry and Ginny had house guests, Petunia and Dudley, the day after they had returned from a week long honeymoon. Although she had got on with Harry's Aunt at the wedding and hoped they would not be strangers any more, she was surprised to hear they had turned up at Grimmauld Place that morning. She wondered what had happened at Privet Drive to have made the two want to leave, whatever it was it wouldn't have been pleasant, if Vernon's reputation was any indication, which worried her. At least they had gone to Harry for help; that showed how the relationship between them had improved. Petunia had told her how she had seen the change in Dudley while they were in hiding and had begun to doubt her views of her nephew whilst there too. Their guards had listened to Potterwatch, Lee's radio program during the war. She had told Molly how she had secretly listened in, not daring to let her husband notice she took the news on it seriously. At first with disbelief, then with puzzlement that people regarded Harry so well, later she was listening to hear if he was safe. Almost without realizing it she had changed from feeling disgust and rejection of him, to concern for her sisters son. Molly knew Petunia was sad that her husband had pig headedly refused to believe any of what he heard; she hoped Petunia had not been hurt by her bad tempered husband. She knew the man had been violent towards Harry in the past and feared he had been to his own wife, especially now that she had changed enough to defy him as she had to attend the wedding.

Soon Molly finished her house work, there was so little to do now with only the two of them living here now. Although she had deliberately taken her time since breakfast, it was only just eleven o'clock now. Sighing she absent mindedly put her cloak on to walk down to the village to visit the Granger's, Hermione's Muggle parents who had settled in well as the village dentists. She was almost out of the back door to cross the paddocks to the gate to their back garden, before remembering that yesterday they had left for a holiday in the Scottish Isles, they wouldn't be back for a fortnight. Sighing again she took her coat off and returned to the kitchen where she made herself a drink.

She sat at the table, nursing the warm cup in her hands and remembered the holiday they had all had, last year at Whitby, it had been a good holiday, she had thoroughly enjoyed it. She had of course been back to the town since, to visit the twins, last week she and George had spent a day on the beach with them. She had to admit that they were settling in well at their new home, but she was worried about the relatives they were living with. They were cousins of the twins' maternal grandparents, and were quite elderly, but in the last few days one of them had become very ill. The twins were quite worried; they had grown very fond of their guardians in the last few weeks since they came out of hospital. She knew that over the last few weeks the elderly couple had taken the two children on day trips all over Whitby and North Yorkshire exploring tiny Villages, Market towns, ruins and even the ancient Cities of York and Ripon. Their guardians had really enjoyed having the children around as well; it had given them a new lease of life, at least until now. They had never had children themselves, but had certainly taken to parenthood well; it had come naturally to them. Molly decided she would visit them and see if they needed anything, make sure everything was alright.

Molly arrived in a side street unnoticed and set off to walk the short distance to the house. It was a hot sunny day, she was glad when she emerged onto a street that led to the cliff top and the sea breeze blew down it, cooling her as she walked briskly towards the house overlooking the bay. She reached the house, the sounds of families on the beech below drifting up with the current of air and knocked on the door. She didn't have long to wait before Tarquin answered the door looking a little sad.

"Hi Mrs. Weasley come on in, the healer is upstairs with Eli now." Said the boy.

"Hello Tarquin, how are you all doing?" Molly went in to the neat, small hallway and as usual made her way to the kitchen at the back of the house.

Delilah was waiting in the kitchen for the healer to come down from checking their relative. She stood as Molly came in and hugged her, "It's good to see you Mrs. Weasley, Eli has got worse overnight, Maggie called the healer this morning, who has been with him ever since, I'm scared for him."

"Oh now my dears don't worry, let's see what the healer says he needs, and then we can sort things out. You know I am here for you and so are Harry and Ginny, they are back, by the way, from the Honeymoon and I know they have presents for you. They had a bit of a surprise this morning though, Harry's Aunt and cousin arrived needing some where to stay for a while, once they are settled I am sure he and Ginny will come and see you though." Molly told them kindly.

The children smiled.

Maggie came down the stairs and into the room looking weary. "Oh hello Molly, I'm glad you are here. Tarquin would you make a drink my dear please, nothing for Eli, but I am sure we could all do with one." She sat down.

"How is he Maggie?" Asked Molly.

"Not good Molly, it's his heart, they want to take him to St. Mungo's, but he won't go because of the children, he doesn't want to let them down."

"Maggie he won't be letting us down, we just want him well again, take him crab fishing by the bridge again." Said Tarquin close to tears.

Maggie took him in her arms "I know my dear and these last few weeks have been some of the happiest in his life. He's loved showing you his favourite places and so have I."

Delilah looked at Maggie "He ought to go to St. Mungo's oughtn't he?"

"Yes dear, he should and I should go with him, but we can't leave you here alone." Maggie told her.

"Well that's not a problem." Said Molly. "They can stay at the Burrow while he's in hospital, I know Arthur won't mind and we have plenty of room now."

"Are you sure Molly?" Maggie asked as the twins cheered up a little, "It would mean Eli would agree to go to St. Mungo's where he should be."

"Of course, it is no problem Maggie. We can visit you and Eli every day until term starts or he is well again. It will be like a holiday for them, there' the pond for them to swim in, the Paddock to play in, it would be great to have them stay so long as you two are happy to come of course." Molly said, addressing the last to the twins.

Tarquin brought the drinks over and sat down. "It would mean Eli could try to get better more easily. I miss him and want him well again, if he can be, so I think it's a good idea and we promise to be good."

"I know you will be Tarquin and you too Delilah, you have both done us a power of good, you are both such good, caring children, I wish we weren't so old." Maggie said.

"You aren't old Maggie nor Eli, well only in years not where it matters; you have shown us so much. I wish we had known that when we stayed that year and last summer, we weren't easy to get on with then were we." Delilah said blushing.

"It wasn't your fault, I wish we had known what that Dolores was doing to you, I will never forgive her for that. It's no wonder you didn't trust us then, she made sure you wouldn't, it wasn't your fault. I want to thank you both for being so mature about all this, I am just so sorry that it's necessary and I know Eli is two. Molly I will talk with Eli, but I am sure he will agree, it's very kind of you to offer." Said Maggie.

"It's no trouble; tell you what, if the healer wants him to go in today, I will Floo Arthur at the Ministry, then Harry if I may, we are going there for dinner tonight. As I told the twins before you came down Maggie, his Aunt and cousin have turned up out of the blue and Petunia wants to have a talk with me, I am sure the twins will be more than welcome too, they will see Teddy there as well."

"Of course you can use it Molly that is no problem at all. I'll go up now and see what's going on, Delilah will you get the Floo powder for Molly please." Maggie went back upstairs while Delilah fetched a pot full of the powder.

"Mrs. Weasley do you think Professor Potter will teach us how to play Quidditch?" Asked Tarquin.

"Oh Tarquin they might be too busy with his Aunt and Cousin." Delilah Said. "Besides we need to start studying, getting ready for school really, it's not that long until we go back."

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Tell you what, we'll ask them, but I would bet they will both make time to teach you how to play and they have a wonderful library at their house, so they can help you study too. You know you might even end up in their house at school; you are going to be resorted, remember. Anyway let me call Mr. Weasley, then them, we can sort all that out later."

The twins nodded and watched as she placed the calls.

Arthur was only too pleased to agree for the twins to stay, he knew how lonely Molly felt with no youngsters in the house to care for, knowing the twins needed them there was no way he would turn them away anyway. Harry and Ginny were sorry to hear about Eli and readily agreed the twins were welcome that evening. By the time Maggie came back down stairs the twins were upstairs packing their trunks and bags ready, they had told her they would take everything for school too, just in case Eli was in hospital for a long time.

"The healer is getting a team over to take Eli to hospital. Molly you are sure about this? I feel awful, the twins have had no real stability." Maggie held the younger witch's hands in her own settled on the table.

"Of course I am Maggie, don't worry they understand, they just want Eli better as you do. They'll enjoy themselves at the Burrow, we'll visit you and Eli every day and they are already planning to pick Harry and Ginny's brains ready to go back to school, I know the rest of the Weasley's will help them too. You concentrate on Eli, don't worry about anything else. Let us do that for you." Molly reassured the elderly Witch.

* * *

Upstairs the twins had finished packing and put their luggage outside their bedroom doors, before going to say goodbye to Eli, who cheered up as they came into the room.

"Now my dears Maggie tells me you are going on little holiday at the Weasley's while I am in hospital." He smiled in greeting.

"Yes Eli, but we shall come see you every day and Mrs. Weasley says that both Professor Potters might teach us Quidditch." said Tarquin

"And they have a library so we can study." smiled Delilah.

"That sounds great my dears, you will have fun and I know the Weasley's have a paddock you can play in at their house." He grinned before looking at them seriously. "Now listen, I want to say something important to you both. I am very ill my dear children, you are our only relatives left, you are the nearest Maggie and I have to children of our own and we have grown to love you over the last few weeks. I don't want you to live in the past my dears, you are at the start of your lives and I know you can achieve whatever you set your minds to. Make the most of your lives; don't let what has happened rule you. I hope we have shown you what there is to discover, a little anyway. Make the most of it and be proud of surviving what you have been through. You have some wonderful opportunities ahead and some good friends in the Weasley's and Potters; they will stand by you no matter what as well as help you when you need it my dears. Never forget that, make the most of your lives, take as many opportunities as you can, keep that curiosity you both have and you won't waste them like your Aunt and father did. Promise me that my dears and remember, no matter what happens Maggie and I will always be with you in your hearts even when we can't be with you in person, remember that for me."

"We will Eli, we love you too." The twins said and hugged him.

"Be good for Molly, children, I know you will be. I will never forget the fun we have had." He whispered.

* * *

While the twins were upstairs with Eli, Maggie was still talking with Molly in the Kitchen.

"Molly I have to tell you something, so you can be ready to help the twins when it happens." The older woman said gravely. "Eli is dying, we knew he had a heart problem, it's one of the reasons we were unsure of taking the twins in permanently, but it wasn't thought to be as serious as it is now, they say they can't cure him, not now. No one else knows, we expected him to have maybe a few more years yet, which is why we decided to take them in, but he has taken to the children so much, he wanted to show them so much and in doing so that it was fine to have fun. He's over done it though we didn't know it, he has tired himself out, so he can't fight it anymore, but he has had such fun doing it. Those children have made his last few weeks the best in his life, neither of us would change that for the world, Merlin knows those children have been wonderful for us, but we both know he is not coming out of St. Mungo's alive. Not this time."

"Oh Maggie, I had no idea it was so serious, we would never have put the burden on you if we had." Molly held the older witch in a hug.

"Molly I promise it's true when I say we wouldn't have missed these last few weeks for all the gold in Gringotts. Those two are so full of life and wonder, wanting to find out about everything we have taken them to see, it's so infectious. To help them discover curiosity and the wonders around them, well it has done us both more good than I can say, given us something to live for, renewed our lives far more than I would have believed possible. It has been so wonderful to see them make up for those lost years of isolation and explore the world through fresh and such inquisitive eyes. I never had any children of my own, we don't know why, but those two twins have filled that gap in both our lives, I hope we have helped them too, shown them how much there is to enjoy in both worlds. They don't know how ill Eli is, he doesn't want them to blame themselves for it, not after all they have been through, besides it's not anybody's fault, it is just one of those things. We are worried that when they get back to school and I know they can't visit us regularly, it can't be helped, but will you arrange that if Eli wants to see them it is made possible. Talk to Minerva, about it for me."

"Of course I will Maggie, I'm sure Minerva will agree to that, but what about you? What are you going to do?"

"I will stay at the hospital with him, when he goes though, I can't come back to live here. I need to be amongst other witches and wizards again, I think. I plan to move to Hogsmeade, it's where I was brought up you know, we have a cottage there, on the market square. It was my parents' house until they died. We rent it to a lovely family, but their children have grown up and they are emigrating with their eldest, in a couple of weeks and we hadn't got round to finding a new tenant yet, so I will live there."

"Let me know when they move out Maggie, my son Ron lives in Hogsmeade now, he will keep an eye on it for you and we shall help get it ready for you, what about this place though?"

"Well I'm going to give it to the twins trust; those two are our only remaining relatives. Remember last week when you and George took the children to the beach for us?"

Molly nodded, it had been a great day, and George had loved being with the twins playing in the surf and on the sand like a child himself.

Maggie continued. "Well Eli and I had a visitor. At our request Gringotts sent a Goblin to witness and collect our new will, our final will. We have left everything to the twins, they would get everything anyway, when we both go, so it made sense for the trust to have this place straight away, I sent the deeds to Mr. Gresley with a letter while I was upstairs. So everything is sorted out, they will have both houses eventually and enough to give them a start when they come of age, added to what's already in their trust, they will have a far better future than past, thank goodness, they deserve it."

"Maggie I have a large family, when the time comes for you to move don't worry the Weasley's will help you, and we are here whenever you need us, for you and the twins."

"Thank you my dear, you always were kind, now we had better cheer up a bit, the twins will be down in a minute." Maggie smiled. "They don't need to see us two being maudlin before we all go."

The team of healers arrived to take Eli to St. Mungo's, just as the twins came down the stairs, bringing their luggage with them.

"Are you all packed dears?" Maggie cheerfully asked.

"Yes Maggie."

"Right well we shall see you tomorrow." She drew them both into her arms. "Thank you, both of you, you are wonderful children, we have loved having you here."

"Thanks for taking us in Maggie, we'll see you soon." Said Delilah.

"Yes and Maggie." Tarquin started to say as tears formed in his eyes. "We love you." he finished.

"We love you two too, now don't worry you'll have a great time at the Burrow, now off you go before they bring Eli down to go to St. Mungo's, he won't want you to see that, besides I have to pack for us both and lock up as well." Maggie wiped away a tear as she released the children. "Be good for Molly and Arthur, have fun and we shall see you tomorrow and you can tell us all about this evening then."

Molly stood near the fire place as Maggie sent the children's bags to the Burrow with her wand, the children held her hands as they stepped into the green flames, waving to Maggie they left Whitby and the last of their family behind.

* * *

Maggie dried her eyes after the twins had gone; turning briskly she went upstairs to pack bags for herself and her husband. She paused at the window, while the healers busied themselves preparing Eli to be transported by port key to the hospital. Gazing out over the sea, glistening in the sun, watching the boats and yachts bobbing up and down in the swell, the sound of seagulls overhead mixing with the distant sounds of children playing on the beach, combining further with the rumble of Muggle cars on the road in front of the house. It was the sound of Whitby in the summer, a cacophony of joy and excitement, of families having fun that they both loved so much. Her mind wandered to the first time the twins had allowed them to take them on to those sands this summer, their excitement at being allowed to simply play for the first time. It meant so much to her to see them finally able to be children, to enable their natural sense of fun and curiosity to be free. That day they had shown the children Whitby, allowed them to explore the places they took them, introducing them to the people the couple had got to know over the years. The wonder both had shown, pulling crabs out of the harbour for the first time, tasting candy floss, exploring the ruins of the abbey and simply watching the boats leave the Harbour, it had been a fantastic day for all of them, followed by so many more memories that had filled the weeks since they had arrived. The twins quickly entered her heart, they had become so much a part of her, the children she could never have, and she missed them already. Her normally composed disposition gave way again and tears returned to her eyes.

"Now Maggie love, come on my dear, they will be fine, more than fine." Eli called from the bed; he could always tell when his wife was upset, even when she had her back to him or pretended she wasn't.

"I know Eli, but I miss them already. Molly knows dear." She said simply, drying her eyes before turning to face her Husband.

"Good, that means you won't be on your own love." He winked cheekily then turned to St. Mungo's team fussing around him. "Now you healers, I hope you know to look after my Maggie while we are in your little establishment, she probably trained the people who trained you, not bad for 21 years old is she?"

The healers smiled, as the sick old Wizard playfully teased his wife.

"Eli, behave yourself dear." Smiled Maggie embarrassed, but glad her husband was joking around with her as he usually did.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:  
** My thanks as always to Balthazar91 for his work as Beta for this story. Also thanks to those who have taken the trouble to review chapters so far. I will always do my best to reply via the messaging system where possible to reviews. I am also grateful to those who have followed/favourited my stories and Author page.  
Until next time, best wishes to you all.  
Tgfoy

 **Historical Notes:**

Witan: King's Council.

Oaths: These were a very serious matter in this period, as powerful morally as a Wizards Oath is portrayed by JKR. To break one would mean shame and could be punished by death. If you swore yourself to a Lord you were swearing to die for that person, literally. Utred knew Orin would be deeply ashamed not to have done so for his father, hence his words of forgiveness to the old man, accepting the oath made to his father as being transferred to him, restoring the old man's pride and honour.

Attitude to Christianity: The term Nailed God is an authentic reference to Christ. At this time Christianity was an alternative religion although it had been in the UK for centuries. Those of the traditional beliefs saw Christ as a weak god because none of their Gods would allow themselves to be killed by mere men. However Priests at the time did not help in many ways. They ensured the church became wealthy and had influence over the politics of Christian Kings. It is known that the Christian Kings levied a tax which went straight to the priests who as a result had a very privileged life style. This promoted non-Christians hatred of the priests however many pagans would go through the motions of Christianity while still holding the old beliefs, when it suited them. Christianity was certainly well established in what is now the UK at the time of the first Viking raids, it was a wealthy and powerful organisation, with the blessing of most Saxon Kings, but like most beliefs had no tolerance of others.

Attitude to death: Utred and Erik as pagan warriors hoped to die with sword in hand to ensure their spirits spent eternity in the feasting hall with all the other warriors who had died. There they would feast, boast and fight in the Norse Heaven of Valhalla

Hoards: The wealthy might bury their gold and treasures for safe keeping in event of an invasion or even simply to keep it safe day to day. Very occasionally such hoards are found by Metal detectorists, archaeologists or others, the most recent example of significance being the Staffordshire Hoard, which include some incredible decorative pieces and pieces of what is only the fifth helmet of the period found in the UK.

Alfred: This refers to one of the most famous Kings of Wessex, Alfred the Great, he of the burnt cakes. He dreamt of a united England and tried to create it, with himself as King of course. He failed, though his successors eventually achieved it. Alfred did create peace with a Viking Army having sheltered with a few men at Athelney from where he rose again and defeated the invaders, made peace with their leader who converted to Christianity and was given East Anglia to rule over. However Alfred remains most famous for burning some cakes probably whilst in hiding at Athelney.

Earsling: An authentic period insult meaning something worth the same as what falls from a goats back side.

Sceadugengan: The description in the story is similar to what is known of these mythical period spirits and the name was applied to warriors skilled at moving at night into an enemy camp. The spirits do remind me of something though.


	4. Merlin's Apprentice

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise from the books by J. K. Rowling remains hers and hers alone, I make no claim on them.  
Warning: 10th century part contains a none magical battle scene.

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

 **Merlin's Apprentice.**

 **Late 20th Century:**

Molly and the twins stepped out of the fireplace at the Burrow; their bags were waiting for them on the kitchen table.

"Welcome to the Burrow you two, now, how would you two like some pumpkin juice? Then we will sort out a room each for you." Smiled Molly.

They sat at the kitchen table while Molly got the drinks; the twins looked round the room, thoughtfully taking in their surroundings.

"So where are we Mrs. Weasley?" Delilah asked. "I mean I know it's called the Burrow and it's your house, but where is that, are we near the sea?"

Molly returned to the table with the drinks. "A few miles from the coast I'm afraid my dear, we are next to the village of Ottery St Catchpole, in Devon. We are closer to St Mungo's but a long way from Whitby and Yorkshire. We have some land going over to the village, joining on to the Granger's paddock, you know their daughter, Hermione. Our land also goes over to the wood, there's a stream and pond between, where you can swim. Most of it is far enough away from the village for them not to notice any Quidditch matches too. "

Delilah nodded, her brother still looking around the room.

Tarquin spotted the clock, which told anyone where members of the family were, rather than telling the time. He could see the hands carrying the pictures of individual family members, one on each. They were pointing at either work or home; he was still looking at it, when one hand moved.

"George is travelling" He said idly, the hand moved to indicate the Burrow. "Oh! It says he's here now."

"What?" Said Mrs. Weasley in surprise.

"Hi mum, thought you might be lonely so I popped round to keep you company for a bit, you heard Harry's news yet?" came George's voice as the door from the yard opened and he came in. "Oh hello you two, didn't expect to see you today." He added noticing the two children as he walked into the kitchen.

"Hi George." The twins smiled, they knew he was the surviving Weasley twin and liked him, especially after their day on the beach, though the fact that he owned a joke shop had certainly lifted him in the twins esteem.

Apparently Eli had encouraged the two of them in pranking Maggie, helping them regain a sense of fun, while teaching them the limits so their jokes didn't go too far. It had worked; the twins had enjoyed playing jokes on both Maggie and Eli over the weeks.

"The twins have come to stay for a while." Molly told him smiling. "But, it was good of you to come and see me George."

"Well Angelina said it was fine, it's quiet at the shop today." He responded joining them at the table and turning to the twins. "Well you two, if you are staying here, has mum given you the grand tour yet?"

The twins shook their heads. "Not yet George."

"Right, well we'll do that in a while?" He grinned.

"George give them chance to settle in, we've only been back two minutes before you got here. We haven't even decided which rooms they will have yet." Molly laughed as she made bacon sandwiches for everyone.

After a late lunch George helped the twins settle into bedrooms, Tarquin picked George's old room whilst Delilah was next door in what had been Percy's room. George helped them with their bags guiding the luggage up the stairs with his wand, and then left them to unpack. By the time they came back downstairs Molly had filled George in about Eli and Maggie, he had called Angelina at the shop to let her know what was going on, luckily the shop was still quiet, but George still promised to be back by closing time.

They heard the twins rushing down the stairs before they burst excitedly into the room. He smiled. "Right you two ready for George's special tour?"

"Yes please." Said Delilah grabbing his hand and dragging him to his feet.

"George, these two aren't used to you yet, don't make it too much of George's special, I want them back in one piece." Molly instructed cautiously.

"Can't be done mum." He grinned winking to the twins as they pulled him to the door. "There are two of them; they are twins so I can't bring them back in one piece it will have to be two."

The twins laughed, but Molly looked at her other son sternly. "You know what I mean George." She called as the three finally disappeared through the door. She started chuckling as she collected the lunch dishes from the sink.

* * *

Vernon arrived back at Privet Drive after a difficult day at work. It had been one of those days where everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. He had arrived to find that an undetected mains water leak had caused part of the car park to collapse overnight, into a large hole eroded beneath the tarmac, right under his reserved spot, meaning he had to park in the staff car park over the road. He was then almost hit by some hoodlum, passing along the road on a motor bike just as he began to cross. Usually he entered the lift alone, but being a few minutes later than normal, he found himself privy to the conversation between two women from the typing pool, discussing events in a soap opera they watched. He exited the lift in a darker mood than when he had entered it, as a result. Entering his office he discovered that a large customer's order being messed up, his work day could not have been off to a worse start. Sorting out the mess took the whole morning, dealing with irate customers, no matter how important, was something his staff should be doing, but this was such a good client he had made the mistake of giving them his direct number some years ago and they used it, frequently. His secretary had gone for her lunch whilst he was on the phone, so he had, had to go for his own lunch, some sandwiches from the shop down the road. At least he had been on his own in the lift in both directions, but the shop assistant calling him her big darling as she served him had grated on his nerves. The afternoon had been spent in a meeting with the militant union rep, who was always guaranteed to create problems for him. By three he was in a foul mood, he stood to see the man out, catching his jacket pocket on the arm of the chair; he heard the material tear as the chair fell backwards. He looked despondently at the pocket hanging off his suit, his secretary rushed in past the union rep, who had stopped in his tracks. She indicated that the man should leave, which he did. She picked up the chair, then passed Vernon his hat and coat. "Mr. Dursley, I have no idea what is wrong with you today, but you have looked exhausted since you got here. I 'm sorry if you don't like my saying so, but I think you had better go home." She told him.

He almost began to argue, glaring at her, thinking to tell her to remember her place as he normally would, but he had to admit, he felt terrible having not slept the night before. If even his normally timid young secretary had plucked up the courage, for the first time he could remember, to stand up to him enough to suggest he should go home early then perhaps he should. All the events of the day, on top of his wife leaving, added up to an appalling day which he would rather draw a line under and forget, he donned his coat and hat, picked up his briefcase and left the office without a word. As he drove along the familiar route, almost automatically, he feared his luck would not change when he reached home. He still held out hope that his wife and son would have returned home whilst he had been out, if they hadn't he would need to do something about it, something he should have thought of earlier, now he had, he could not understand why the idea had not come to him this morning.

He knew as soon as he entered the road and saw the house, the curtains still closed, his son's car still absent, that his family had not returned. He parked the car on the drive, not bothering to go into the house, crossed the road to Mrs. Figg's. The old woman had been his son's friend for the last year and he knew Petunia had been over there several times as well. He wanted answers and he guessed that she might, in all likely hood, be able to provide them, he would easily be able to intimidate her to get them. He hammered powerfully on the door, there was no answer, he hammered again, still no answer, he looked through the window. The house was empty, no furniture or even carpets were left, the walls were bare wall paper. Vernon turned, swore angrily and went home, his plan for finding his wife and son stopped before it had even started.

Taking his hat, coat and torn jacket off, he rang for a take away meal, he had a fridge, freezer and cupboard full of food in the kitchen, but no idea how to cook any of it. While he waited for the food to arrive he sat in his chair in the lounge, not even turning on the television or drawing back the curtains, he could not think what to do next. After several minutes, he decided he needed a friendly face, so stood up and went into the hall, he picked up the post he had stepped over on his way in, picked up the phone and dialled a number, sorting through the mail as he listened to it ring. His sister, Marge, answered it, this was the one place he knew he could turn for sympathy, the one individual left he knew he could count on.

"Marge its Vernon I need you." He said, softly when he heard his sister's voice at the other end of the line. Pausing for a moment while he listened. "No, its fine Marge, bring the dogs, I'm here alone, Petunia has left me, so has Dudley." He added she assured him she was on the way and he put the phone down.

His sister was the first person he had admitted that his marriage appeared to have disintegrated, it was the first time he had admitted it to even himself. He knew he would probably not see his wife and son for a long time if at all, but admitting it was hard. His takeaway meal arrived while he was still in the hall, so he sat at the kitchen table eating his solitary meal, watching the news on the television there, waiting for his sister to arrive.

* * *

Petunia lay on the four-poster bed in the lovely bedroom. She had just awoken and after the initial puzzlement as to where she was, was now simply enjoying relaxing in the warm, comfortable bed. She realised she was feeling safer and more at ease than she had for a very long time. She looked at her watch that was on the bedside cabinet, four o'clock, she had slept for five hours, she would have to rise soon or she knew she wouldn't sleep that night. She wondered what time Molly would arrive, she must be ready for Harry's mother in law, much as she was sure she wouldn't mind, Petunia didn't want her to get here before she was up. Although they had only really got to know each other at the wedding a week ago, the witch was the first person to show her true friendship for many years and she was truly looking forward to seeing her again. She heard movement from the room next door to hers, which drew her from her thoughts.

From the sounds she could hear from the next bedroom, Dudley had risen and was moving around. She heard his door open then close again, a moment later there was a gentle knock on the door.

"Come in Dud." She called.

He put his head round the door "You all right mum? We ought to get up and go downstairs."

"Yes love, I will, Ginny showed me where the shower is, but I won't be long." She smiled "By the way thank you Dudley, for standing by me. If it hadn't been for you, he would have really hurt me last night, I doubt I would have had the strength to stand up to him without you at my side. As it is, what he tried to do was just the final straw for me, made me realize what I had ignored for years."

"Mum don't worry, it's over, he can't find us here, even if he knew where we are, I am just glad we have somewhere to stay. That said, you are stronger than you think, mum, it took courage to decide to leave him as you did." He reassured.

"Thank you my dear, it wasn't easy, but no regrets. I've made my mind up about that, I just have to decide what to do next."

"That's up to you mum and there is time enough for that, but first I think we should enjoy this evening then you can decide what you want to do. I will see if George's offer of a job is open, see Maria and see if Ginny was serious about that slimming potion she mentioned last year. A new start, a new me what do you think?" Dudley smiled.

"Yes I like that, just keep the weight off though Dud. I need to find out about my sister though, it's time I stopped envying her for what she was born with and got to know what she grew to be, that's partly why I want to talk to Molly. Once I have spoken to her, I shall be in a better position to decide what I do next. Anyway you go down; I will be there in a few minutes."

Dudley nodded, withdrew his head and went down stairs.

He entered the sitting room to find Ginny talking to Andromeda, while Teddy played on the rug. Harry was asleep on one of the sofas.

Ginny turned as he came through the door. "Hi Dud, had a good sleep?"

"Yes thanks Ginny, Mums getting up too, she said she would go for a shower first. Is Harry all right?"

"Yes, he can't use the potion any more so he sleeps a lot again, it's getting better though, slowly." She smiled. "Madam Pomfrey will be here soon to give him his check up anyway."

Dudley sat down. "Oh yes, speaking of potions, were you serious about the one that would help me lose weight?"

Andromeda smiled. "There is one Dudley, if you are sure about it, then we'll talk to Poppy, but it's not an easy answer really. Though it will help, you can only take it for two days, then you must watch what you eat just like everyone else."

"I see, I guess even in the magical world there are sometimes no easy answers, I would like to give it a try though." He replied.

Ginny smiled. "Dud, even with magic, easy answers are often thin on the ground, we haven't the answers to everything. It's part of the reason we stay hidden from the Muggles, many would expect us to cure everything and we can't, I am sure Poppy will help with this though, I'm sure."

"Fair enough." Dudley replied.

A few minutes later, they turned as Petunia entered the room and greeted her, she assured them that she had slept well and the room was wonderful. She had just sat down when, green flames appeared in the fireplace and Madam Pomfrey stepped out. "Afternoon everyone." She said looking round the room and spotting Dudley and Petunia. "Oh, sorry. I didn't realize you had guests, shall I come back later?"

Petunia was looking wide-eyed, surprised at the witch's sudden appearance from under the mantelpiece.

"It's fine Poppy." Said Ginny "This is Dudley, Harry's cousin and his mum, Harry's aunt Petunia, they were at the wedding though I am not sure if you met them or not. Anyway they have come to stay; well actually they have nowhere else to go just yet, so we are helping them start new lives."

A look of recognition came over the healers face. "Oh yes I remember you now, we did chat briefly during the evening, taking a break outside from the music, it's good to see you again. Don't worry Floo is my usual entrance here, it's quite harmless once you get the knack. I take it your new lives are going to be with us, well I am glad. Harry has told me a lot about you and how you have changed over the last year. Anyway, let me guess, my favourite patient is asleep, as usual when I get here?" she smiled cheekily.

"I was Poppy." Said Harry, opening his eyes. "As usual you arrive when I'm resting as ordered." He grinned, sitting up.

"Anyone would think you arranged it dear, just for me." Poppy smiled back. "Right let's check you over."

"Should we leave you to it Doctor?" Petunia asked.

"No, there's no need for you to leave us, please call me Poppy, Harry and Ginny do so I would be pleased for you to do so as well. We don't have doctors as you would know them; I'm a healer Mrs. Dursley, basically the same thing I would guess, although perhaps our methods are a little different. Anyway this won't take long, examining Harry never does, persuading him to rest when he is not in his bed in my hospital wing, well now that's the challenge." She smiled as she set to work and Harry groaned, accepting being the butt of his friend's jokes.

"Really Poppy? I guess that's a side to him I have yet to discover. I'm Petunia by the way, Mrs. Dursley feels odd now strangely." Harry's Aunt smiled back.

"Oh Petunia, Harry can be quite stubborn, especially if he thinks he is fine when the reality is that he isn't." Ginny laughed.

"Thanks for the support my beloved." Harry said dryly, pretending to look hurt.

"Don't pout, dearest." Ginny smiled and patted him on the head fondly, as you might pet a puppy. "You wouldn't expect me to pretend otherwise and hide such a thing from your Aunt would you?" She bent and kissed him before he could respond.

Teddy looked round, bewildered, as everyone laughed.

"Best quit while you are behind Harry." Dudley laughed.

Poppy checked Harry as soon as she had calmed down enough and then put her wand away. "Well as usual no real change, although a slight improvement, barely noticeable, but at least it is in the right direction. Now Harry I have talked with Minerva about spacing your class's this year to allow you to rest between teaching so you will have no more than two class in a row and Friday's for cabinet again. Ginny yours are the same so you can keep an eye on him and if you want we shall carry on with our sessions too. Your teaching schedule isn't heavy so there would be time."

"That will be great Poppy." Ginny smiled "Now while you are here, I wonder if we can ask a favour of you?"

"Of course you can my dear, if it is in my power, I shall do my best, what is it?"

"Well Dudley has been trying to lose weight for years with not much success really as soon as he loses it, he puts it back on. I wondered whether we could use that potion you told me about, to help him."

"Hmm, well I'll have to make some; it has to be specially brewed for each person. Dudley, are you happy to let me do an examination of you, find your general state of health and get what I need to mix it up? I shall need to use my wand and I know you aren't used to that yet." Poppy asked. Dudley agreed and watched curiously as she passed her wand over him then she pronounced. "Well that seems in order, by the way your heart is strained Dudley, it could become a serious problem. I wonder that the Doctor's haven't picked up on it, but regardless of that, I can fix it for you, once you have lost some weight, it won't take much to do then. Now I need a hair sample, then I shall have all I need to make the potion for you."

Dudley plucked a hair from his head, Poppy put it in a crystal vial she conjured and corked it securely. "Are you sure it will be fine to make it for me?" He asked. "I don't want you to get into trouble for making it for a Muggle if you aren't meant to."

"Oh don't worry my dear, it's fine, you are in our world now so I am allowed to help, it is no problem, but thank you for your concern. Now I will be back the day after tomorrow to check Harry and I will bring the potion with me then. Two doses over the following two days, then I will monitor you for a week, then a potion to stop the effects of the first when we get to your ideal weight, but remember you can't use it again for at least five years, so it will be up to you to keep the weight off. Otherwise carry on as usual, we shall sort out that heart problem next week as well, then you will be fit to go. Right then, anything else while I am here?"

"Yes!" Said Harry, everyone looked at him puzzled, so he grinned. "Are you going to sit down and have a drink now with us, so you can give us your news?"

Poppy laughed. "Of course Harry, you don't think I would miss that if I could help it do you?"

* * *

Vernon heard the distinctive sound of his sister's Diesel Range Rover stop outside, he went to open the door and greet her. He stood on the step, watching her opening the back of the large car and five dogs jumped out, barking as they sniffed round the front garden. She closed the door, called the exuberant dogs to heel and walked towards her brother carrying a suit case; clearly she had come to stay.

"Hello Vernon dear, we can unload the rest of the luggage later, come on let's get the kettle on and you can tell me all about it." She said, the dogs following her in.

They sat in the kitchen, whilst Vernon told his version of what had happened. Whilst he didn't exactly lie, he missed out the fact that he had tried to hit his wife, rather he made Dudley's attack sound unprovoked. He emphasized the recent actions of his wife and son in defying him to attend Harry's wedding and his view that somehow the boy must have somehow brainwashed them. His sister of course had no idea what Harry really was, she had no notion of the magical world, like Vernon she despised anything abnormal anyway and in her opinion the runt her brother had so generously taken in, was beneath contempt.

"Well Vernon, it sounds to me like you are well shot of them at the moment. If they can't see you behaved reasonably, if they insist the scrawny runt is a good role model and worth a second thought then that is their look out. I warned you when you took him in that he would be more trouble than he as worth, but of course Petunia insisted and he has proved to be the bane of your life. Don't get me wrong, you have done your best with the boy, but you can't make a silk purse from a sow's ear Vernon. I am just so sorry your obvious compassion and generosity of spirit has been rewarded with betrayal, you most certainly don't deserve that. The boy definitely has a lot to answer for that is for sure." She told him matter of factually, then continued in a business-like manner. "As for the other two, well they will come crawling back when they come to their senses, mark my words. When they do, then you can show what a fine, upstanding man you are and if you want them, then you can welcome them back, but they shall need to rebuild the trust. In the mean time we need to get you sorted out so you are in a fit state to deal with them appropriately when they come home, as well as deal with that treacherous runt. We must show them that their departure has changed nothing and that you are perfectly capable of getting on with your life without them. I will stay for as long as you like, of course, but sadly we can do nothing for your misguided family until we hear from them and I bet that won't take long, after all, what kind of life could they possibly have with the boy."

Comforted by her words Vernon nodded. "You are right Marge; wherever they are they can't possibly be happy, I knew you would see things clearly. I think if you will excuse me, I shall go for a quick bath and get changed."

"Good show, that's the spirit, carry on and everything will be fine. Whilst you do that, I shall look in the freezer and find something for us to eat, a man with your responsibilities can't survive on takeaways." She said pointing at the wrappers on the worktop. "Would you take my case up to my room as you go, for me dear?"

* * *

George did look after the twins as he showed them round the Burrow and the land that his parents owned, after all he knew only too well what his mother's wrath felt like and he didn't want to risk being its target if either of the children got hurt. In fact the twins thoroughly enjoyed the afternoon with George; he even took them flying on the family's broomsticks, helping them to feel comfortable flying and teaching them some simple Quidditch moves. Neither twin had enjoyed learning to fly at school, their Aunt had considered it a frivolous skill as such they had not applied themselves in the class, accepting her view as they had been conditioned to do. Now they were free of her influence and having been encouraged by Eli and Maggie, they enthusiastically took to the air, keen to try the new experience, impressing George with how quickly they learnt. When they got back to the house, they were a little disappointed that he had to go back to the shop; he promised they would see him again soon as he waved and disappeared into the Floo.

At teatime Molly gave them a snack, to tide them over until they got to Grimmauld place for dinner; Arthur arrived just as they finished eating. They washed, changed their clothes while Arthur had a bite to eat before he and Molly changed ready to leave as soon as Maria arrived. They didn't have to wait long before the excited girl arrived, keen, yet slightly nervous, to be seeing Dudley again.

Harry and Ginny hugged the twins and Ginny's parents when they stepped out of the Floo into the sitting room, Dudley and Maria were kissing and cuddling a welcome, relieved to see each other again. Molly turned to greet Petunia. "Petunia, I am so sorry, it's very sad that it has come to this." She said.

"Yes Molly it is, but I'm already thinking it was inevitable for a long time, I just didn't want to believe it." Petunia sighed sadly, as the two ladies hugged.

"Come on let's go and talk. All right if we use the drawing room Harry?" Molly asked.

"Yes of course it is, we have a while before dinner and I hear we have two students who want to see our library and learn about Quidditch." He smiled.

Molly laughed. "Yes you certainly have." The twins grinned broadly, nodding.

Molly and Petunia went to the drawing room to chat, the twins and Teddy greeted each other warmly, each happy to see the other, they played for a little while. Soon Arthur and Andromeda were left to talk in the sitting room while Harry and Ginny showed the twins, Dudley and Maria round the house, Teddy in his godfather's arms. Dudley had, of course, been before, but the library amazed the others, especially as every book they mentioned floated down to the reading table. Delilah had a very Hermione look on her face whilst they were in there.

"I could spend days in here, just reading." She said in hushed, tones.

Tarquin rolled his eyes. "Delilah, please, not days."

"Well you have to admit it is brilliant." She replied.

"Yes I suppose it is." He reluctantly admitted.

When they reached the transforming room it appeared to be simply an office, until Ginny asked for a Quidditch pitch. Dudley was impressed, he had not seen the room transform before nor had he seen a Quidditch pitch.

"Wow Harry no wonder you guys don't need a telly when you have a room like this. So, how does the game work?"

"Shall we show him?" Harry smiled, Ginny and Maria nodded.

"Can we play?" Called the twins.

"Of course you can." Ginny replied "As your new sports teacher I thoroughly approve. One Bludger only. I know these two have learnt to fly, but I also know they aren't very confident on a broom yet"

"That was because Aunt Delores thought flying and Quidditch were a waste of time, so we didn't want to learn. George took us flying this afternoon at the Burrow though, he taught us a lot." Said Tarquin.

"Did he? Well my brother is a good teacher; let's see what you can do." Ginny smiled.

Harry passed Teddy to Dudley, the toddler giggled at the new person, before Harry conjured a chair for his cousin. Brooms appeared for all of them, except Dudley and Teddy of course, ready for the practice game. The twins did a few laps of the pitch showing off the new skills that George had taught them, while Harry took the box with the balls to the centre of the pitch.

"Wow twins, you are doing well how about you play chasers, Maria are you happy playing beater, I'll go in goal and Harry you be seeker as usual." Ginny called.

Maria agreed and the game began, Harry launched the Quaffle which Delilah caught and went diving down the pitch towards Ginny, even managing to dodge a Bludger on the way, she scored.

Dudley restarted the game watching in amazement as the game sped up and the players zoomed around the pitch, Harry floating high above them. Harry had in fact spotted the snitch and was keeping an eye on it, but didn't dive for it; instead he was letting the twins enjoy themselves as they grew in confidence. Despite their limited flying time, he could see that they would, with practice, be a formidable pair of chasers.

Eventually he saw Kreacher enter the room so he dived to catch the snitch and end the game. They all landed next to Dudley, who was amazed by what he had seen.

"Blimey what a game, that was incredible." He said putting an arm round a grinning Maria.

"Wait until you see a full game Dud, we couldn't go full pace today, nor did we have a full team." Smiled Harry.

"There's a match on near us this weekend, Holyhead Harpies verses Puddlemere, but I will have to get tickets." Maria said.

"Tell you what we'll sort that out, if you don't mind we'll see if we can take the twins as well." Said Ginny "I have a contact with the Harpies."

Maria nodded and the twins cheered.

"You two are going to be brilliant chasers you know, but you need practice. If you do, then I would bet you make your house team this year." Grinned Harry.

The twins were excited as they went down the stairs and into the dining room for dinner and told Molly about the Quidditch Match.

* * *

 **10** **th** **Century.**

The tall, powerful looking man standing next to the lodge didn't flinch at the two swords that with a speed that defeated the eye were suddenly pointing at his chest, he simply held out his hands to show he held no weapon. He stood quite still, his long, golden hair dancing lightly about his shoulders in the breeze. From his clothes Utred knew he must be a Lord, he had a long fur cloak and brightly coloured tunic and hose. His leather boots reached his knees, chain mail glistening in the fire light extended to form a skirt from beneath the tunic down to his knees, from his belt hung a magnificent sword in a jewelled scabbard that was so big it's tip was only a couple of inches above the ground. He made no move to draw it or the equally decorated Seax that hung alongside it with a carved stick tucked next to them, he simply looked at the two blades pointed at him and smiled.

"Ulf told me you would be cautious when you returned, I have to say he was right. I am Godric Gryffindor of Hogsmeade; I have not come to harm you." The man calmly announced.

"Our caution is well founded, when our home lies in ashes." Utred replied. "You are a stranger to us and although I trust Ulf, he has not seen you for some time to my knowledge so your loyalties may or may not be as he recalls. I may be young, but I am twelve, an adult, who has just lost everything so please tell me, how do we know that it wasn't you who lit the torch."

"You don't Lord Utred, though I am saddened that I will not be able to renew my friendship with your father, he was a great warrior and man. I assure you my interest in you is not for your destruction, perhaps you will allow me to demonstrate my good will." Gryffindor replied, receiving a cautious nod he used finger tips to retrieve the stick and held it at arm's length. "Accio the ring of the Lord of Tang." He said gently, before returning the stick to his belt.

Nothing happened for a moment, then with a whistling sound something gold flew from the direction of Tang, whipping past them at high speed and into Gryffindor's outstretched hand.

"Your Fathers ring is now yours Lord Utred." Gryffindor handed the ring to Utred. "The symbol of your family."

"I am Lord of three men and a hut in a forest at the moment, no Lord at all." Utred said gazing solemnly at the ring that had never left his father's hand to his knowledge; he made a decision "I will not wear it on my hand until I have avenged the murder of my parents." While Erik continued to keep the foible of his sword at the outsiders chest, Utred returned his weapon to its sheath, he removed the thong of leather that was round his neck and threaded the ring next to his Thor's hammer amulet, then replaced it round his neck. "I thank you Lord Gryffindor, but how did you retrieve it."

Gryffindor watched the process appreciatively, seeing the boy was determined to restore his family. Godric was sure he would, one day, perhaps even with his help, though he knew the young Lord's trust for that would not be easily won. He had watched the boy secretly for a number of years, noting the instances of accidental magic ever since he had first detected it with a device his own mentor had invented. He and his three colleagues had each, at one time or another, observed the boy, but it had been Gryffindor who had noticed the bravery in training, the loyalty to his friends, even consideration towards slaves. He liked what he saw and had decided to speak with the boy's father, to offer the boy an apprenticeship in Magic in Hogsmeade, which is why he had come to the area today. Events had over taken him, he had arrived in the wood and witnessed the aftermath of the destruction of Tang, too late to act to save his already dead friend, he had noted the men sifting through the remains. His own magic had kept him undetected, but he had still needed to find Utred, ensure his safety, then make the offer to him, as well as offer a place of safety for him. Godric could sense the boy was still live, his magic told him that, it was a gift he had developed under his mentor. It had its uses in keeping track of those born with the ability to do magic, who he watched. He had walked directly through the trees, following the direction his wand pointed, into the woods, but there were times it was uncertain and swung from side to side. Godric resorted to none magical means, he had watched Utred being taken to hunt many times, so surmised the lodge may be where his friends son might be headed.

Ulf had instantly recognized him, although it had been years since he had last seen the wizard in the village where he had grown up. Lord Gryffindor's father had been summoned to advise the elders, but had taken the trouble to visit each house including Ulf's fathers; he was after all the local Lord. Ulf had already known Godric, but that day the two had played Hnefatafl into the late hours. They had renewed their childhood friendship in those few weeks while, the elders sought the old Lord's advice and help. Ulf had been only a couple of years older than Utred was now at that time, his adult life just starting and a few years before Ulf had left on a ship with the Utred's father who had helped defend their village from other Scots envious of their trade links with the Lord of Tang. Although they had won the battle, Ulf's family had all been killed, the old Lord agreed to let him go with their loyal friend, Ulf had never regretted it, but still it was good to see the now Lord Gryffindor again. Though he understood his friends' reaction, he knew his friend did not need a sword to protect himself, but neither would he use any weapon against them except if they attacked him.

"My Lord." Erik addressed Utred as the young nobleman finished retying the leather at the back of his neck. "We don't know who might come here, we should talk inside, if you think we can trust this man."

"Trust him? No not yet, but he has shown he is honourable, returning the ring to me." Utred replied. "He can remain with us until either he has earned that trust, or we kill him as an enemy."

Erik nodded and lowered his sword, but did not sheath it and the five men went into the lodge. Gryffindor was the last to enter; Utred noticed he had stood outside muttering and gesticulating. Lights flashed around the lodge, then the stranger entered.

"We are protected from any who try to come here who mean us harm, be they Human or otherwise. The enemy could walk within five feet of us and not see the lodge now, if any other of your household reached here and were not aiding your enemy then they could find us though." He told them, removing his blades and leaning them in full view next to the door, a sign of respect for Utred, he was now unarmed against the armed, trusted men.

Utred noted the sign of respect; this man may be trustworthy after all. He knew only a lord and his men may wear weapons in their own hall, unless it was a declaration of war. The fact the new comer had left his out of reach, in full view of all was a significant sign of peaceful intent.

"So why are you here Gryffindor and how did you retrieve the ring?" Utred asked as the men sat round the hearth and he took a bowl and ladled some stew from the pot that hung above the fire.

He began to eat the broth that had been slowly cooking all day, this was his Hall and the others would not eat until he did. Ulf took a bowl full to Orin who Erik had helped into the lodge and laid on one of the beds, Orin was eyeing the newcomer oddly. Erik and Ulf then began helping themselves to some food.

"I am here for you, Utred." Gryffindor replied.

Erik dropped his spoon into the bowl, which he quickly set aside and placed his hand on his sword all in what seemed like one motion, but Utred subtly signalled for him to stop. "Be careful Gryffindor, I trust these men, but you are a stranger, such words can have a number of meanings, not all of them harmless. Why me?" Utred was playing the political game, a game his father had taught him since his older brother's death, to prepare him for the role of a Lord.

Although his father was a good teacher, Utred was not as skilled as he at the game, even so he had to take the role fate had given him. He was the Lord of Tang, Lord Utred Huntrodds, despite the condition of his household. He was expected to behave in certain ways, be able to negotiate with other Lords, take advice and make decisions as his father would. He was responsible for the three survivors of the attack on Tang as well as any who might be at Thwing, if it had not yet been taken. The three he had left of his father's men were loyal to him, they had been sworn to his father who had rewarded them, he now had that responsibility, it was his duty. He in turn had to ensure he gave them no reason to distrust him, or doubt he would look after them. He had to tread carefully, not place himself unnecessarily in a situation where they would be risking their lives to protect him. His question to Gryffindor was also a warning though, that if he did try to attack them, he would suffer it was a caution that the stranger would understand.

The man nodded acknowledging that he understood, drew a breath and looked serious. "Because Utred you and I have something in common, we have magic in us, we are Wizards." Gryffindor said in a manner as if this were a perfectly normal statement to make.

"I'm a what?" Utred asked in disbelief.

"A Wizard." Orin replied bluntly from the bed. "I have seen it for years my Lord, it is what I mentioned earlier about what others say about you. I have seen it as you grow, recognised it from seeing it in others when I was younger. Young Godric here speaks the truth; I know that, not just from what I have seen, but what I know. I knew this man once, I knew him as a child, I knew his grandfather if it comes to it, long before I met your father Lord Utred. He came to my family for his wand with his father, who had been brought to us himself, for the same reason, by his own years before."

Godric, respecting custom had only just helped himself to a bowl of stew, last after Utred's men, his household, had done so. He was a guest, representing only himself, which had he been known and invited then he might have been asked to help himself he would have been asked and so he knew to wait, until the others had received their meat. Now, though he stood and looked at the old man, puzzlement written on his face. He had noticed him of course, but paid little attention to him until now.

"But, my wand was made by a family in the village on the land of my fore fathers, closest to the hall. That family still live in Hogsmeade and are the best wand makers in Britain, how can you know of them or of me and my ancestry? I have no recollection of meeting you, have you changed so much that I wouldn't? I admit it is a long time since I got my wand, but even so." Godric was puzzled, not recognising the older man at all.

"I am of that family Godric; you played with my nephew often." The old man replied, grimacing with pain from his wounds and the ride.

"It can't be?" Godric whispered, realisation and disbelief mixing with the puzzlement.

Putting his bowl of stew down, the Warrior Wizard began to wave his wand over the man, whose bruising instantly faded and eye was healed.

Utred watched fascinated as the wizard worked, producing two glass flasks from his tunic, both of which Orin drank without hesitation. The man's cuts faded and disappeared, his breathing became less laboured, even in the warm smokey atmosphere of the Lodge. Within moments he was sitting up, all his pain and injuries obviously gone.

"It is you, Orin, after so long." Godric breathed quietly. "Your family will be relieved, they have been searching for you for a very long time and are desperate for news. It is good to see you again, Orin."

"As it is you Lord Godric, my thanks to you for healing me." Orin acknowledged then turned to Utred to explain. "My father was a wand maker in Hogsmeade, a few houses near Hogwarts, where Godric's family hall is, a few miles from the village where Ulf must have grown. They have been wand makers over a thousand years, it is my family trade, but I am not a wizard. I'm a squib, no magic in me, first in the family, bit of a disgrace in some circles. So I came south, eventually, save them any shame, not that they showed any, but I knew it was only a matter of time. I've been living as a Muggle ever since then, eventually settled thanks to your father Utred. Mind you, I can make wands though; don't need magic for that, just knowledge of the properties of the components." The old man said.

"Your brother runs the stall, in front of the house now Orin, with his son and grandson. Ulf is the last of his family, I'm afraid, so there are no Magical folk left there. I am looking to expand Hogsmeade though, potentially provide a refuge for Wizarding families driven from their homes by these Christians. Anyway it has to be said, although I haven't seen you for many years Orin, you still look just like your brother though." Gryffindor told him kindly.

"We are twins you know, so bound to look alike I expect, he got magic and I didn't, so I suppose that is one difference between us though. So, how did you know where to find me?"

"I didn't, not really. Your brother told me what he had managed to guess or find out, he knew you were in Northumbria, and had managed to narrow that down to somewhere near to Jorvik, but that was all. He hoped I might see you when I told him I was heading here, he hoped I could find you and bring you back, mind he does that every time I come down south of the wall, so just lucky this time I guess." Godric grinned.

"It would be good to see them again, but that's up to my Lord Utred." Orin replied loyally. "I am sworn to his family and therefore to him."

"Lord Gryffindor, it seems you are somehow known to half my household and certainly you appear able to work magic. My ring, what you did as we entered and now healing another as fast, or faster than I can heal myself. I think it's time you explained exactly what you have come for." Utred said in wonder. "Then my men can offer advice based on their knowledge, to help guide me."

It took a long time for Utred to believe that his abilities in fast healing and other strange incidents were evidence that he was a wizard and he could learn to use them, control them. They all listened as the visitor explained how he had detected Utred's magic awaken years before, he described keeping watch after each incident. Once the truth of Utred's ability had been accepted, Godric carried on. First explaining that he and his friends were tracing, then watching children with this ability, particularly any who were not born into known wizard families. He explained how there was an entire community of witches and wizards spread around the country, living in ordinary communities, often hidden. There were both Saxon and Norse as well as Welsh, Scot and Irish, though all considered this place to be home. The number of individuals and families coming together though, were growing, so he and his three friends were making efforts to draw them together. Although it was known it had been here long before the Norse had arrived, the power of the Christian faith had meant little at first, but as it's influence grew so did it's intolerance, preached by the priests, meaning that many of that faith were developing a fear of other beliefs and magic. Even any with the ability born of families of that faith were fearful enough of the power of the church to try to suppress their nature. Godric found such fear odd himself, he knew that some wizards in the past had been made saints for performing magic, though the church called them miracles in such cases. There was a growing danger to Witches and Wizards, as the bishops grew richer, more powerful and resented outsiders getting what they believed was their glory. The old faiths were fading and with them tolerance for wizards in most places, even in Northumbria. Gryffindor told them about the growing community on his lands, safely out of reach, far north of the wall, the school he and his three friends were setting up and how important it was to receive training in using magic.

It was very dark outside by now, they had talked long into the night. Both Utred and Erik asking questions, but it was Erik who brought the conversation round to their immediate situation.

"My Lord, whatever you decide, one thing is certain, we must not stay here after tonight. It can't be long before our enemy will find the track and come here, even if they do not, we cannot survive here for long. While we have meat, even if we had seed, crops will not grow here and it is a long way to the nearest water. We cannot remain hidden here, we must ensure you are safe, but cannot do that here. At some point we must retrieve your horde, only you know where your father put it and you say it is not at Tang, it must be at Thwing then, so we must go there and beat the enemy to it."

"It is not at Thwing." Utred replied. "Thwing is almost certainly lost along with Tang, of that I have little doubt, there was little defence there for the winter and if I were in this new King's shoes, I would have already sent men there to destroy my father's other home. Even if it is not yet taken, it will be very soon."

"That may be so my lord, but we cannot be sure, we should at least go to try to rescue those we left there to maintain it." Erik advised.

"I know Erik, but it is many hours riding from here, we only have two horses, we cannot leave Orin for that long, nor take him with us on such a ride, he always travelled in a wagon if you remember." Utred replied.

"If you will trust me Lord Utred I can take two of you to see the property and be back in as long as it takes to locate your people if needed. I know where it is, having watched you there as well as at Tang." Gryffindor said calmly.

"Gryffindor it is far away, a day's ride at least, we shouldn't split up for longer than is necessary." Utred replied.

"It will take but, a few minutes."

Erik and Utred looked at him dubiously.

"That's impossible." Erik muttered.

"Not for a wizard." Ulf chuckled.

"Fine, Ulf you and I will go with Gryffindor, Erik you stay here this time, if we aren't back in an hour take the horses and find safety." Utred decided then turned to the Wizard. "If you have lied to us, I will kill you."

"Trust takes time to build, I would expect no less Lord Utred." Gryffindor smiled. "Eric, as a sign of good faith I leave my sword, a gift from Merlin himself, to ensure our safe return."

He took his sword from where he had left it and passed it to the warrior who nodded.

Gryffindor instructed Utred and Ulf to grasp his arm and turned on the spot, Utred felt like he was being squeezed on all sides for a moment, then they appeared on the low hill overlooking a large hall, surrounded by long houses within a palisade, the thick blanket of snow highlighted the network of fields surrounding it. This was his summer residence, larger than Tang, it was the first time he had seen it covered in snow, dark tracks crisscrossed what should have been white, but glowed a flickering orange.

The community was aflame, burning fiercely. Dark figures slaughtering animals and humans who were trying to escape the flames. Utred's father had left thirty to guard and maintain the estate over the winter; all were being slaughtered before their eyes. They heard movement to their side, Utred drew his sword at the same time as Ulf, Gryffindor had withdrawn his wand, all pointed towards the sound.

With a blood curdling yell three armed men ran at them out of the darkness, from the side of the hill away from the fires. Their battle cry screaming from their throats, weapons flashing orange in the light from the flames, none from the thirty left behind, but were intent on attacking them. Only one carried a shield which bore the symbol of the enemy, Utred and Ulf stood their ground, timing their defence perfectly, a wave of Gryffindor's wand vanished the shield in time for Utred's sword to slash at the man's throat before he could react to his shield's disappearance, the cut forced deeper by the momentum of the man, his head almost severed as a result. Ulf had brought his blade down through a second attacker's unprotected skull, smashing the bone. Both men were dead, even before they hit the ground. The third man carried a massive axe; he didn't flinch as his comrades fell. He swung the axe in great arcs keeping the swordsmen at bay, yelling obscenities loudly.

He was a large man, an experienced warrior in a fine leather tunic, but no mail beneath. His belt held a seas, but no sword, clearly he preferred the axe. He bellowed like a bull, in the joy of fighting, his red mouth open in the mass of his large beard as he swung the axe about him, trying to kill them. Utred and Ulf danced round the man ducking and weaving, watching for an opening to attack, Gryffindor unable to use his wand for fear of hitting one of them, otherwise unarmed, joined the battle dance to provide an added distraction. All of them knew that if the heavy blade hit them, they could easily lose a limb, or worse it would crush their helmet into their skull just as easily. Ulf and Utred managed to slash at the axe man's limbs, causing cuts that would eventually weaken him, but they needed to defeat him quickly, before they tired and he got his opportunity. Then suddenly the man made a lunge for the unarmed Gryffindor, who stepped out of the axe's range, causing the man to extend his arm, he was suddenly vulnerable. The foible of Ulf's sword crashed down on the wrist of the hand holding the axe, which dropped, the severed hand still grasping the weapon. The man hardly had time to register the shock, as Utred used the opportunity to plunge his own sword through the man's heart.

The large man died instantly and fell backwards as his legs buckled beneath him, Utred retrieving his sword. The three men stood for a moment, Ulf an Utred cleaning their swords on the axe man's leather tunic, which like his beard and the snow next to his body, was becoming stained with blood. They nodded to each other in gratitude as they caught their breath; they heard the sound of running men coming towards them, this time from the direction of the fires. The fight on the hill had attracted too much attention, at least twenty of the enemy was charging towards them. Gryffindor grabbed his two bloodied comrades and Utred again felt that strange squeezing sensation and in an instant they were back in the lodge.

"Odin, what the hell! Gryffindor if you caused this, you will regret it." Erik shouted as he saw the three blood spattered figures appear, he began to draw Gryffindor's sword, which was still in his hand, exposing the forte.

"No Eric, stand down, it wasn't him. They were there; we were attacked by what was presumably their perimeter guard. Gryffindor fought with us and enabled our safe escape." Utred shouted back, quickly.

Erik relaxed at the words of his young Lord and pushed the sword back into its sheath, as the three men settled onto the benches around the fire. Ulf told Erik and Orin what had happened while he, Utred and Gryffindor, warmed themselves by the fire and they all drank horns of ale.

"So my lord, your first true battle, maybe not a large one, but it won't be your last before you gain revenge. It certainly sounds like you fought well, my Lord, your father would be proud." Erik said, once the tale had been told. "Do you think any of them recognised you?"

"No, any close enough to do so are dead now." Utred told him, Godric and Ulf confirmed it.

"Good that means the usurper and his masters will not know you survived the attack at Tang. That gives us an advantage; they won't be looking for you, or getting others to do it for a reward. So we have time, time to get you ready to do what you need to." Erik observed.

Utred nodded. "Now we know that Thwing is definitely lost along with Tang and that by morning it too will be no more than charred timber and ash, we need to go to a safe place. What you said before is right, we can't stay here much longer, they will find it. Orin, Ulf, you have said little, is there anything you think we have missed?"

"Nothing so far Lord." Ulf said.

Orin looked thoughtful. "No, nothing to add to that, but we must consider what we do next."

"We can't leave without your Father's horde." Erik observed. "We need to keep it safe and you will need it to build an army for your revenge. Where ever it is we can't let them get it, either. My lord, you say it isn't at Tang or Thwing, so where did your father put it? We must retrieve it fast."

Utred turned to Gryffindor, a grin plastered on his face. "Would you summon it like you did the ring, it is the Huntrodds Horde."

Gryffindor smiled, realising the young man was up to something. "Ah, he used your family name for it, rather than your better known titular name, an interesting precaution, only his most trusted would know it. I remember your father told me it when we met, all those years ago. Very well my Lord, I shall." He took out his wand and waved it, summoning the horde. "Lord Utred, it has just occurred to me, I hope you shall warn me if I need to duck." He added a twinkle of mischief in his eye.

The straw covered floor under Erik's feet began to move, the soil vibrating and lifting as if a giant mole was emerging. The ground began rising to form a growing mound, spilling out over the floor. Erik yelped and leapt to his feet, out of the way as the earth lifted the bench he was sat on, unevenly, before it too threw him into the fire. Three chests slowly emerged from the ground beneath the bench, which fell backwards, knocking Erik over anyway, before the large chests came to rest at Gryffindor's feet.

"My Lord you might have warned me." Erik laughed as Utred helped him up.

Utred joined his friend's laughter. "Now where would be the fun in that Erik? You were literally sitting on the Horde; I must say suddenly you didn't look comfortable."

Gryffindor levitated the three chests to the side of the room, where they would be safe.

Erik tried to look slightly put out. "My lord, that really was not funny."

"It was from our point of view, Erik." Orin grinned.

Erik knew the older man had a wicked sense of humour himself; he had often fallen for the man's jokes in the past. "It is not encouragement he needs Orin."

A grinning Ulf tried to bring their thoughts back to the dilemma of where they were going from here. "All right you three, now we know the size of Erik's piles, we need to decide what we need to do now. We are agreed we are not safe here, we need to go somewhere you will be, my Lord. What are we to do, we cannot remain here?"

"You are not helping either Ulf." Erik said in despair.

"I have a solution." Gryffindor answered.

Utred couldn't resist. "For Erik's piles or our situation?" He asked.

"My Lord please." Erik pleaded.

"Our situation, I'll sort out Erik's discomfort later." Godric joined in the banter, an hour before he would not have, but fighting beside men creates a bond, even Erik felt that although he had not been with them.

"Bloody hell, even the new boy is at it now." Erik teased good naturedly in response, indicating his acceptance of the wizard into the group. "So what is this idea you have to resolve our problem?"

"Well, if you remember, I mentioned earlier that until now people with our ability are only able to develop it if they are lucky enough to find a trained wizard they can be apprentice to, or if they are taught it by others in their family. I was lucky enough to be apprentice to Merlin himself, mainly because of who and where I was, but it is all very hit and miss. If left untaught the wizard or witch cannot control their magic properly and could easily become a danger to themselves and to others, albeit unintentionally. Sadly I have seen the result of this and of poor instruction too often, it is tragic for all concerned, so together with three friends I am starting a school, a place where we can train those who have magic, ensuring it is done to a proper standard. At my estate in Scotland we are building a community, it will be safe for all magical folk and creatures, no Muggles can find it unless taken there, so you will be well protected whilst you learn. We are now searching out students, you would be my first since we started, my first apprentice at Hogwarts and you will learn to control your power from all four of us as well as any others we invite to teach, if you come of course. Each of us has our strengths and will teach the students accordingly. All we ask in return is that you help support the school, by assisting to erecting the buildings, grow food, hunting even and once you reach a certain level helping the newer students as they come, that sort of thing. All of you will be welcome. Erik and Ulf you are Muggles, non-magic folk, but you could teach none magical defence, we need someone to do that if you are willing. Orin, as I said your family are still in the nearby village and would love to see you again, if you want to be involved at the school then we shall find a role for you, otherwise you could help them. Utred from what I have seen you are the type of person I seek for my own house, brave, honourable, you who know your duty to others. It would be an honour to welcome you to my estates my Lord."

"I must avenge my family." Utred said.

"I know." Gryffindor nodded. "You will, you are a man of honour, I would expect nothing less and promise that when that day comes I will be at your side, but you are in no position to do it now, you need time to build your reputation, you cannot take the City."

"No, you are right. Well Gryffindor, how do we get to your school?"

"You wish to join my house? You wish to learn to control your ability? It will not be easy."

"Yes." Utred replied simply. "The meat and blood in the barrels will be our first contribution, so all may celebrate Yule."

"And the rest of you? Will you come too?" Gryffindor asked, knowing the answer, but as was his way, giving all a choice.

"We go where our Lord goes." Erik replied, Ulf and Orin nodded.

"I take that as your oath to me Lord Utred." Gryffindor said.

"Agreed and yours to me."

Gryffindor stood. "Very well." He nodded, then called out. "Flame."

A flash of yellow fire appeared, quickly fading to reveal a magnificent orange bird. "Flame these four men must be taken to Hogwarts at the same time that I take the lodge we are in and all its contents." The bird sang a strange, wonderful song which seemed to warm them all.

Godric looked at them all. "Grasp my phoenix's tail, all of you, the horses outside will be transported with us too, don't worry, you are safe."

They stood behind the hovering bird, as its beautiful song filled the room and warmed their hearts, it was strangely calming, reassuring. They each grasped the tail feathers of the bird, suddenly feeling weightless as they touched the fire coloured feathers. Utred saw Gryffindor wave his wand in a large arc, muttering some odd words. There was a flash of bright yellow light which faded quickly, though they had all closed their eyes against the brilliance. A moment later they opened them again, they were still standing in the same spot in the lodge, holding the bird's tail, Gryffindor smiling putting his wand back in his belt.

"What's wrong? Why didn't it work?" Utred asked.

"It did." Smiled Godric.

Utred looked puzzled and almost jumped as he heard a sudden angry hammering at the door; the three warriors drew their swords.

"Is that you Godric?" A voice called angrily.

"Of course it is Salazar, calm down, you know only we four can bring things through the wards or did you forget again, anyway only I was out on a trip so who else would it be." Gryffindor called.

"You bloody young fool! You only just missed me with this shack. Don't tell me this wreck is all you could find instead of a student." The voice of whoever this Salazar was sounded both exasperated and mocking at the same time.

"Stop being dramatic Salazar, you were at least ten feet away from us landing on you." Godric Laughed.

"Yes and right behind those three Horses you brought with you, you don't want to know how they reacted, Godric. Now are you going to open the door or not?" The voice said.

Gryffindor laughed even harder, motioning them to put their swords away. Once they had, he opened the door slowly, to reveal an angry looking man dressed in fine clothes, who was pointing at a smelly brown mess steaming on his shoe.

* * *

 **Author's Notes :**

Well I hope you enjoyed that one. **  
**My thanks as always to Balthazar91 for his work as Beta for this story. Also thanks to those who have taken the trouble to review chapters so far. I will always do my best to reply via the messaging system where possible to reviews. I am also grateful to those who have followed/favourited my stories and Author page.  
Question, Should I add additional warnings to the start of the chapter if, as with this chapter, there are battle scenes etc.  
Until next time, best wishes to you all.  
Tgfoy

 **Historical notes:**

Hnefatafl: (pronounced: na fer taffle). Board game of strategy involving white pieces defending a king piece from attack by the black pieces, it is played on board or cloth divided into squares. Often described as Viking age Chess this game was popular and many boards and playing pieces have been found in excavations in various styles. The game is available today in the Uk at least and is commonly called "The Viking Game" although it is not the only game known to have been played in the period.

Anatomy of a Sword:

The foible of a sword is the top 12 inches of the blade from the tip, the weakest part of the blade. Conversely the base of the blade nearest the hilt is the strongest part and called the forte. Hence the descriptions of peoples weaknesses being their foibles and strengths being a forte. At the bottom of the handle is a pommel that could be used to pummel an enemy. The groove along the flat of the blade ensures it can be withdrawn from a body easily. Interestingly only swords from England and Japan of this period were made by folding two types of metal and welding them together in a forge, a laborious process that gave the blade added strength. This technique appears to have been developed by the two cultures independently of each other and at about the same time, the method spread through Europe via the Vikings.

Godric's wealth;

Gryffindor's description betrays signs of wealth in the 10th century. He bears a sword (cost about the same as a reasonably sized house does these days), his clothes are colourful, dye was expensive, and he wears furs and rich jewellery too. Together with the arm bands indicating a successful warrior this would be how Utred knew he was a Lord.

Family Rings;

Utred's ring would be a sign he was head of a wealthy family it may even bear the seal of the family, it was a sign of power and recognition.

The Stew;

All houses at the time would have a stew cooking over the fire at all times, at meal times the head of the house would take their portion first, followed by the woman of the house then the other family. Guests, unless invited to at another time, would take theirs before any children who were last. In the case in the lodge Gryffindor was showing great respect by waiting until last. At the end of the day meat and any seasonal or stored veg would be added to ensure the pot was full for the next day. In a home setting the meal might be supplemented with bread (home baked on stones around the fire) or may be foregone in favour of fish baked in the embers. Often the stew would not contain meat, but the cheapest seafood available, Oysters. Literally millions of Oyster shells are found in the remains of the period, it is also interesting to note the poor ate Salmon, a fish rarely touched by the wealthy. Oh how times have changed. Meat, fish and shellfish were a major part of the diet, with grain (probably in the form of bread) being available year round. Fruit and vegetables only available seasonally. We know a lot about diet of the time from environmental samples found in cesspits and in my home city even the smell is preserved in them.

Ok hope all that's of interest, any suggestions for next time? Please let me know. I will of course add any chapter specific ones too. However if there is anything I have missed that you would like me to cover please do tell me, via the reviews perhaps.


	5. The Cordwainer's Family

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise from the books by J. K. Rowling remains hers and hers alone, I make no claim on them.

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

 **The Cordwainer's family.**

10th Century. Hogwarts.

Utred was sitting on a large up ended log, leaning back against the wall of the lodge, which was still beside the great lake looking as if it had always been there, which of course it hadn't. That was the beauty of magic, he thought looking over the calm waters to the mountains on the far side. The lodge was in fact all that remained of his own estates, back in the south, in Northumbria. The lodge was originally built in the middle of a forest and brought here with him in it, since then it had changed greatly. Its position next to the lake was brighter so the moss on the walls and roof had soon dried and died, the wood was now clean and roof freshly thatched with reeds from the marshy areas around the lake. He liked the changes brought on by the nature of the area it was now in, it looked newer, although the roofing was the only part that had been replaced, so far anyway.

This was one of his favourite places to sit within the grounds of the school, especially on the warmer days of summer, looking out over the rippling dark waters of the lake over to the high mountains on the other side, their white tops of winter replaced with grey granite, flecked with hints of green vegetation. He had been tempted each summer to have a go at climbing one of those peaks, he had yet to make the journey round the lake to the lush lower slopes and scale them. He had walked round the lake of course, right round to the gorge cut by the waterfall of the waters leaving the lake, a truly magical place where nature had created cliffs of unreachable plants, flowers, ferns and mosses, but he had not taken the opportunity to ascend one of the mountains yet, nor could he today. The sun was beating down on him in his seat and he was enjoying the feel of it within the safety of the wards around the school. He had allowed his mind to wander as he waited for his friends, his memories of the days leading up to his arrival here at Hogwarts, still fresh in his mind despite the passage of time and the life he now led. He had found with the training he had received here, his memory had improved, somehow he could remember each day of his time here and much of his life before with much greater clarity. He could recall it as if turning the pages of a book, as if some monk or church educated nobleman had written it all down, his words, his deeds, for him to read at leisure.

Five years had passed since the night Godric had brought him and his companions, together with the lodge, here to his land and the school. The passage of time did not seem possible to Utred, it seemed both so long ago yet also so recent to him. Even so it was an event etched on his memory for so many reasons, the death of his family and loss of his lands, as well as the start of his new life, his path which, if he had any say, would lead him to revenge. At the very least it had marked the start of being trained in ways his father never could have; it was a night of new beginnings that he would never forget. He smiled, it was a night Salazar would not forget in a hurry either, but for very different reasons. The horses that had been tethered outside the lodge at the time and that had been transported with them had not reacted well to the sudden change of location. Sal had been in the wrong place at the wrong time on their arrival, unfortunately for him, the horses had shown their displeasure, on his feet. Slytherin had not taken kindly to the incident and had showed it every day since Utred's arrival. Of course he treated all Muggleborns that way, often arguing with Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw that they should not allow such wizards into the school. He reserved his own house in the school for pure blood students, those born of magical parents, only. Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw shared Godric's views that any of magical ability should be trained. The difference of opinion created the first serious rivalry between the houses in the school, the students of Slytherin's house considering themselves above those of the other houses, regardless of the achievements of those sections of the student body.

When Utred had first arrived, the school had resembled a small, slightly unusual unfortified village. Instead of small family houses and a large hall, the school was comprised of five long timber built houses, with reed roofs all set on the grass where the black sheep grazed, their fleece molting naturally, to be used to make cloth. The four smaller houses were still much larger than either of his father's halls had been; these were arranged around the much larger central one. This was the Great Hall, used every day when the whole school would gather in its central area for meals. Around the edges of it were smaller rooms that were used for lessons. The other four buildings were the houses of the four founders, where their students spent their evenings if they weren't wandering the grounds or working, they all slept in their founders' house as well.

On the hill above the houses, had been what had looked like the robbed out ruins of Roman buildings, when he arrived, though he knew the ancients had not built on this scale this far north. He knew they were far north of the Wall that marked the boundary between what had once been the kingdom of Bernicia, now northern Northumbria and the land of the Scots. What he had thought of as ruins, were in fact the foundations of a great stone castle of the founders' own design, the trenches filled with neatly laid stone, providing the footing for the walls to grow above the surface. Using charms and spells they learned from Ravenclaw, the students worked alongside the villagers with the founders to build it. There was no Roman building to take down to supply the stone, as had occurred in Jorvik, so each block had to be carved from the living rock found in the hill side and in the caves beneath the castle for the construction of the walls.

When Utred had arrived there had been only a handful of students in the school, but this number had quickly grown. Barely a week went by without the founders finding more students, or some Wizarding families moving to the nearby village, having escaped persecution in their homes. Although they had watched many for years, the founders had not brought many to live at the school until the year Utred had arrived, although both Salazar and Hufflepuff had taken apprentices before. Now there were over a hundred students, with about the same number of younger children in the village who would attend when they reached eleven years old and of course the search for others continued as well. Utred assisted Gryffindor in the room the founders used in the Great Hall to detect the use of magic around the country. The room had many instruments in it, each with a different purpose, they mainly used three, one detected the magic, another showed the location, another indicated the age and name of the person who had used it. Others helped them determine other factors, such as which spell, and if any injuries had been caused meaning they had to get there quickly to heal any wounded and modify memories if necessary. One instrument did tell them if the spell was from a pure blood or not, but only Slytherin bothered with it. Using this room they had managed to find many young wizards and witches, those who were eleven or over were invited to come to the school, any younger ones were left and observed, to be asked once they were old enough. Utred enjoyed the work; he and Godric had become close as a result, more like father and son than teacher and pupil. He was after all Gryffindor's first apprentice.

He gazed from the old wattle and daub houses that had been his home for five years, up to the new castle, which awaited them and would provide them their new home. Today the students and classes would finally move into it, tonight with great feasting the castle would begin to live. He heard a noise behind him, and turned to see Erik emerge from the lodge.

"My Lord?" he said catching sight of Utred.

"Going hunting Erik?" He smiled.

"The school is in need of meat my Lord, for tonight's celebrations so I must go join the centaurs in their hunt." He said collecting his saddle and placing it on one of the horses that had given Slytherin the reason to remember their arrival.

Since they had arrived with Utred, Ulf and Erik had taught the students, hunting, and Muggle defence as well as having become the grounds keepers for the school, the lodge had become their home and base for them. They had added gamekeepers to their tasks; a job that had become necessary as magical creatures arrived seeking the safety of the area from Muggles. Few had ever been caught, but those like the centaurs, who appeared partly human, were seen as abominations by the Christians so had needed to find places of safety. The forest on Gryffindor's land had been idea for many, so following the arrival of the centaurs came all manner of magical beasts, including Nifflers, Unicorns even a dragon or two. These of course were not hunted for food, their meat being either enchanted or inedible, even by the Boar and wolves in the case of Nifflers. Godric gave Erik and Ulf care of the forest and lake, where mermaids had recently asked to reside, as well as their teaching duties, even Salazar was impressed with their abilities and saw the value in what they taught. Utred and the pair often joined the Centaurs hunting, the three men impressing the powerful creatures with their skills, mutual respect was earned to a level even the founders had never seen between any Human and the enigmatic natural seers of the magical world. The Centaurs regarding the men as part of their herd and willingly aided their hunts, whilst the men treated the members of the herd as friends, enjoying their company.

Utred laughed. "Enjoy it Erik, I am going into Hogsmeade as soon as the others arrive."

"Oh yes, getting more things to add to the Castle to catch out the unwary?" Erik laughed, busying himself with fastening the saddle correctly, then placing bridle and reigns on the animal. "Just watch it in the village Utred. That fat Muggle Durslieg is still after you lot for what you did to him and his son the other week."

"Then Durslieg needs to learn respect for his neighbours." Scowled Utred. "Teach his son that victimizing the children of magical folk is cowardly, especially when he knows Godric won't let them use magic deliberately before they have been trained. The Muggle is a bullying scum who lets his son get away with murder, that poor lad his son attacked was only eight, we were only helping him get revenge."

"That may be so, but Godric will deal with them, you know that. Still it was fun seeing the fat Muggle trying to stop the thing before it caught fire, that's when he really panicked." Erik mounted the horse, waved and rode towards the forest where he joined the Centaurs who were waiting at the edge of the forest.

Utred watched Erik disappear into the trees with the Centaurs, a pang of regret that he was not going with them. He wondered what Durslieg was planning for them after last time, not that it mattered, the man usually ended up only making a fool of himself when he tried for revenge, no matter who his target was. The Cordwainer and his family were the last Muggles left in Hogsmeade, the others who had served the Gryffindor estate before the school was started, had all moved to his other estate in Wessex where they were building a community for all. Those families had moved from Hogsmeade, knowing they would be just as safe in Wessex, so they made way for the trickle of magical families that came to Hogsmeade in search of safety from persecution from the Church. The Muggle families had known this was probably the only place those families could be secure so willingly moved to the village in Wessex, where they would enjoy increased trade with others. Being non-magical they were safe from persecution in the Christians stronghold in the south, but could also build a community that could hide any magical folk from the attention of those who would harm them if as Hogsmeade filled. The village had been where Godric had been born, his parents renaming the settlement Godric's Hollow when Merlin had arrived to make him his apprentice. Godric was half blood and had inherited both estates, the one in Wessex from his Mother's Muggle parents, the one here in the land of the Scots from his Father's line. However Durslieg had refused to leave, to the relief of many who had gone, he had not agreed that they should shelter any of the freaks, as he called them. His hatred of anything magical, which he demonstrated to the new families who settled in Hogsmeade, had extended to any who disagreed with his view. He knew that his fellows disliked him, which only increased his own sense of entitlement. Godric spoke with the man almost every day, as either he or his son antagonized his new neighbours. The man thought himself a cut above the magical folk, who he constantly insulted, though he always accepted their gold if they traded with him. However demand for his shoes and leather goods was trickling away, it had never been as strong as it should have been. His actions towards the new residents creating great anger and now a wizard who was also a Cordwainer had arrived in the village in the last week. He was a friendly man, so people would go to him rather than the magic hating Muggle. Utred and his friends revelled in avenging the family's actions towards the other villagers; they were known as the lead pranksters in the school anyway.

He was brought out of his thoughts when his four closest friends arrived, ready for their visit to the nearby village. All of them had been brought to the school soon after Utred and had joined him in Godric's house; the five had quickly formed a bond of loyalty to each other. They were all pure bloods, meaning Utred was the odd one out, though they were certainly not the type Slytherin wanted, especially the Wesele Twins who had been the first to arrive. Leoforwic and Egil were the first set of twins Utred had ever met; even Orin could not say he had met many before. The red heads were natural born pranksters and had come up with the ideas for numerous of the tricks, which the group had built into the castle, including the trick steps in the staircases, which trapped the unwary. One had memorably caught Slytherin himself out, trapping his leg for twenty minutes before his colleagues could stop laughing enough to free him. He had demanded that the five be forced to replace that and any other tricks they had built into the castle, however just to remove that one step, would have meant taking down the almost complete building, so Godric assigned his students the task of erecting the high roof and ceiling in the Great Hall that few were looking forward to doing. The group had of course used this opportunity for a further prank, this time on everyone. They had enchanted the ceiling to show the sky above so unless you looked from outside you couldn't see that the Hall had a roof on it at all. The task had taken two days, Slytherin was convinced they had created the illusion of a roof that was only revealed from the inside, it was only when he had climbed up the outside of the building that he realized the view inside was the illusion not the stone tiles themselves. Although the twins were ideas men it usually took the others thoughts and skills to actually make the plans workable, they were a team, an inventive one at that.

Next to arrive had been the son of Gryffindor's daughter, his only child; she had married into another old Wizarding family and lived under protection on her father's Wessex estate where she had raised her son. Tigelwotta was a raven haired youth now, quiet most of the time, but a fearsome opponent with a sword or wand, a quick, analytical mind was under his messy hair. He rarely used his first name, which as part of their cover his parents had taken from the Christians Holy book, preferring to be called by his family's name, in fact it had been two years of friendship before Utred had learnt what it was.

Finally after a couple of months the fifth member of the close nit group had arrived. Skorri Bleac was another Northumbrian, though he had never been to Jorvik. He came from the coastal Hvitsby, he was a Saxon whose family had fled to Hogsmeade, they were too well known as magical in the settlement, which had become a powerful Christian site and unsafe for them to remain in.

Although they were collectively and individually known as pranksters they were also talented Wizards, among the best in the school, even Slytherin acknowledged this, despite his students being the main target of their jokes. They were popular too, though none of them arrogant, few outside the school even knew Utred was a Lord, he only used this status when he had to in order to protect others from attack, even within his own house. His friends looked on Utred as their leader, though he rarely masterminded their antics unless it was a matter of justice. He had often seen his father settling disputes between his tenant farmers and sworn men, even presiding over legal matters; as a result he had a strong sense of justice, to which the others deferred. He, like them all, had also become a skilled wizard, gaining an understanding of the intricacies and subtitles of all aspects of magic. It was also widely accepted that he was amongst the most powerful wizards alive, his abilities being almost as strong as those of the founders themselves, it was acknowledged that he would probably be stronger in a year or two. He was often found studying Gryffindor's books, that he had been left by Merlin as well as collected from far and wide. He had assisted in creating the spells that protected the school using deep magic he had learnt from them. Thanks to his training, the five, along with Ulf and Erik, were not just expert huntsmen, but also the best swordsmen in the student body too, and created a formidable shield wall, which had yet to be defeated during class. They were known by the other students as Gryffindor's Creaftas, or, the founders strength, in the Saxon tongue. The four planned to join Utred's household, once their student days were done, they would be happy to swear an oath to their friend and help him gain his revenge.

The five Creaftas greeted each other warmly and set off to walk towards the village, their pouches full of coins hung from their belts, to spend on supplies from the growing number of trades now practised there. They laughed and joked as they walked out of the grounds, discussing the anticipated events of later in the day.

* * *

The houses of the village were arranged along a road that led from the school grounds, on the floor of the valley through woodland. The first houses began shortly after the trees finished and were small holdings with fields behind, one property on each side of the road. There were a number of such properties in the village, producing food for the village, supplementing what each householder could produce for themselves on the plot of land each house had behind it. The next house in was the butcher, opposite the tanner, which always had a strong smell over it. Each house along the road had a stall in front of it selling the wares produced by the occupants, from antler workers to Blacksmiths, before the road widened into a rough square surrounded by houses and stalls, with the Durslieg's in the furthest corner, at the end of a stub of a road, shared only by one of the brewers houses. The square was the central point of the village, although the road was now being extended out of it opposite where it came in, meaning the large area would be to one side of it, to allow for the village to expand as more people arrived. Although it was a warm day smoke stained the sky above each house from the fires within, not maintained for warmth, but for cooking for the families within. Although in places there was a definite smell of waste, especially near the Tanner's and the Dyer's properties, that came with the gathered urine required in the processes they used to complete their produce, it was nothing like the stench that was permanently over Jorvik or any other town. Hogsmeade was still very much a rural community, but children still played in the street, trade still went on and animals wandered freely as they did elsewhere. It was not just the villagers the community supplied, but many of the Scots residing within a day's walk would also buy and sell supplies here and magical folk further afield came to trade. In sharp contrast to five years ago, when this had been a self-sufficient community with little outside trade, except for the Ollivander's wands, Hogsmeade was now a busy centre, whose products could be found all over the known world.

Utred and his friends walked into the village, appearing to be casually talking amongst each other, but still watchful of their surroundings, as they had practised and now did automatically. It was a state that came naturally to them as breathing, it was a protection. Should there be any sign of threat they could react instinctively to protect each other and any others with them.

They stopped to chat to the moneyer who was carefully weighing the blanks of Gold, Silver and Copper he used to strike the coins at the stall outside his house half way down the road to the square. The coins he made had been one difference Utred had noticed and had to adjust to on arrival in the Wizarding world. Certainly back in Jorvik they had money, a single silver coin, which was cut if the value of the goods was less than the silver in the coin. He had even seen a gold coin from some distant land, but here the coins had different values and were not cut to give change. They exchanged news and admired the new pattern on the coins the founders had designed for use by wizards. The Silver Sickle and Gold Galleon would be easy to pass off in the Muggle world where it was the weight of the metal that gave it value, but the copper Knut, the smallest of them, would not be able to be used outside the Wizarding community, no one else, so far as he knew, made coins from the material. The coins were an inevitable step towards being independent of the Muggle world, although it was likely magical folk would remain living amongst Muggles, it would be good to have a separate economy should it be necessary to form their own government in order to survive. The founders owned other safe places; some were where magical folk could live in safety. Even Godric's Hollow in Wessex had a magically concealed community amongst the Muggle houses, in the midst of the Christians heartland. Some families who had escaped to Hogsmeade had moved into these safe areas, thus the magical world was becoming more organized and separate from those they had previously lived in harmony with, providing service to those who needed it, but it was only at Hogsmeade where they could live openly with the local Muggles without fear.

As they left the moneyer he began striking coins, placing a disc of metal between the two dies and hitting the top one with a heavy hammer, the metal being squeezed between them taking the impression of the pattern that he had made on them. As well as coins the man spent his time making the jewellery he had on display on the table next to his working stations, he was proud to be the only coin maker in Scotland, even the Scots King came to him for new coinage. The Creaftas had soon bought what they needed in the Village, stopping and chatting with the traders as they haggled with them. The five were popular with the Wizarding families; they had taken the trouble to get to know each family, especially any new ones as they arrived, so were all highly regarded, despite being known for pranks. They were welcoming the latest arrivals, a family who had been chased out of a village in Mercia, when they heard a child yell in pain. They looked at each other, knowing what the most likely explanation was.

"Durslieg!" Said Egil bluntly, grinning.

They bid farewell to the new family, turned and ran across the square, to where they could still hear the young child was still wailing. They arrived near the brewery where they saw the large figure of the youngest Durslieg; he was yanking on the young girl's hair. He spotted them coming, wands drawn and the fat fifteen year old tried to run, but could only manage a waddle as he shouted insults at them. Utred cast a spell at the fleeing teenager, which hit its target. A pig's tail burst from the boys' backside as he yelled then sped off as fast as he could to his house at the end of the short road.

"Go on run you lice shit." Tigelwotta shouted after him, as they reached the young girl and knelt to comfort her.

As they calmed the girl down, they heard a loud roar of indignation and turned to see a large red-faced man, a man so large he seemed to have no neck, emerged from the doorway of the house at the end of the track, look round, spot them and storm towards them, grabbing his wood axe from the block as he passed it. "You worthless freaks dare attack my son, again. I'll rip you to shreds, teach you to respect your betters."

Skorri laughed. "How are you going to do that Durslieg? Show us how to make the worst shoes in the world. That pig shit coward of a sprog of yours needs to learn to pick on people his own size, not that there are many around that fat, instead of children and girls."

Durslieg was quickly closing the gap between them getting redder in the face "Shut your mouth you runt, we lived here long before your kind polluted the place, this is our village, you need to learn that. It's our village not yours or any of you freaks, the sooner the lot of you disappear the better, even if I have to force you out myself." He wielded his axe at them threateningly.

Utred drew his sword and stood in front of the still sniffing little girl protectively ready to deflect the axe if it was thrown at them; the others had their wands ready. "Durslieg I would be careful who you threaten with a weapon if I were you, you are a fat Cordwainer not a warrior, a cowardly bully just like your son."

"You dare draw that toy on me boy." Durslieg responded threateningly, but he stopped, raising the axe threateningly. "You lot have got away with too much, trying to take my village from us. You think you are above me Huntrodds, my son has a right to be here and if you and your lot don't like that, they can lump it boy. Who the hell do you think you are drawing a blade on me, as if you are a Lord or something? Put it away before you hurt yourself, or I'll make you wish you had never been born, I will show you how to respect your betters boy."

He threw the axe straight at Utred's head, but Utred was too quick, he reacted with a perfectly timed swing of his sword. The chiming sound of metal on metal rang in the air followed by a dull thud, as his sword hit the axe to the ground. He moved quickly and was behind the large man before he was noticed, with two flicks of his wrist he smacked the man on the back of the knees with the flat of his sword and the man automatically fell to his knees. Circling round to face him, Utred kept the point of the sword at where the man's throat should be, beneath the folds of fat of his chin and stared angrily into the man's eyes. "I don't think I am a Lord you worthless spawn of a swine's whore, I am a Lord." He snarled allowing his family ring to dangle from his neck on the leather thong to swing in front of the man's eyes. "Now I and my friends will treat you with the respect if you treat us and everyone else in this village with. This is Godric's village not yours, we are here at his invitation, we don't need your permission or approval and nor does anyone else. You and your family are no more important than anyone else here, it's time you realised that. Now teach that runt of yours, somehow, to behave or next time I will not be so lenient with him, or you."

He pressed the sword hard enough to nick the large man's skin, he flinched and a damp patch grew darkening the front of his pale rough woollen trousers as the five laughed at him, encouraging the little girl to do the same. Utred was the only one not laughing; he glared at the man in disgust. "You pathetic whale, when will you learn, we are not a threat to you unless you threaten us. We don't care where you live, but we do not cow tow to you. If you want respect earn it Durslieg, start by controlling that brat of yours."

There was a pop and Gryffindor appeared. "Orin told me there was trouble." He sighed. "What's he done this time, Utred?" He asked.

Utred explained to his master what had occurred then they left Godric to deal with the man and took the girl home.

On the way they passed Orin's family home, Utred had given the man permission to re-join his family who had been wand makers for centuries. They had already been in the village when it was discovered Gryffindor was definitely magical, the Ollivander's had been caretakers of the estate as well as wand makers. Unknown to anyone on the estate before, they had made wands for the witches and wizards in Britain from the humble house, even making Merlin's wand. Wizards had been visiting Hogsmeade for hundreds of years, unseen, to buy a wand from the family of renowned makers. Orin's brother had been over-joyed to be reunited with him and Orin found he had a large family that he had known nothing about. It had not taken the man long before he had settled in to making wands again, entertaining his family and others by telling stories of his adventures whilst he had been away, Utred had heard more about the man's life than he believed his father. The Ollivander's had welcomed Utred, Erik and Ulf in as part of the family as well; the three knew they were always welcome at the fireside in the house. The Ollivander children always welcomed Utred with great enthusiasm, he was treated as a big brother by them all and he in turn spent time playing games with them as well as training them how to use weapons, just as he had as a child, even if without the bloodletting he had grown used to under his father's tutelage.

Utred was very pleased for his old friend, who had been so faithful to his father; he had freed Orin of his oath to the Huntrodds, so that he never had to leave his family again, even so, Orin acted as if still under the oath.

The Girl lived next door to the Ollivander's and was the daughter of the Apothocar. They returned her to her parents and explained what had happened to them, they spent some time with them, assuring themselves the girl was all right before they left. The five then called in to the wand makers, to round off the day, as usual the children leapt on Utred, it was thanks to him teaching them how to defend themselves, under Orin's watchful eye, that they were the only ones of their age in the village that the Durslieg boy avoided any contact with. In fact, their defence after he last tried to attack them meant that Utred wondered if the boy would ever be able to have children of his own.

Godric called in after dealing with Durslieg senior, to find the Creaftas engaged in entertaining the children. "From potential murderer to nurse maid." He laughed "Utred you never cease to amaze me."

Utred grinned, "Oh come on Godric, all I did was wet nurse him, my way."

"Well he's after blood this time, yours. At least he was until I reminded him of the penalty for murdering a Lord. He was convinced you had taken the ring by force, until I told him whom your father was. That shut the useless lump up, he might hate us, but he knows who your father was. He was always a problem that one, thought himself better than everyone else, even when it was only Muggles here, as far as he was concerned." Godric winked.

"That's true, his family always believed they were a cut above." Orin agreed. "His father was the same; pompous fools the lot of them. I remember his father arriving here with the boy in tow, setting up shop, first thing we heard was him demanding to know why the rest of us didn't buy his shoes and threatening us all if we didn't. Your Dad had employed him as a cattleman, Godric; he was good at that too. Cows just ignored his rants, your dad told me he wished he had never brought them here, but he had rescued them from a slave market. The boy is the only male in that house without the slave mark."

"I didn't know that Orin." Gryffindor looked at the old man amazed.

"Aye, that family owes yours their freedom, a debt that has not been repaid."

"That should help control the beggar for a while" Godric grinned.

They stayed for another hour then left promising to be back soon. With Gryffindor, the five friends made their way back to the school, to get ready for the opening feast.

* * *

Late 20th Century.

It was early in the morning, the sun beginning to shine behind the curtains of her room, when Petunia gently woke at her usual hour, her first morning in her nephews' house. Kreacher brought her a cup of tea as she stirred, placing it ready for her on the bedside table, he left the room discreetly and she then sat up, propping herself against the pillows of the large four-poster bed. She reached over to pick up the drink, holding the saucer as she drank her first sip of the reviving hot brown liquid, then looked round the room. It was larger than her old room at Privet drive; actually she thought it was larger than the upper floor of her old home. She detected her new niece in law's hand in decorating the room, it's soft, relaxing pastel shades, complimenting the curtains over the windows and hangings on the bed, a few pictures and ornaments were placed to add interest, she wondered at the significance of them, if any. The furniture was comfortable, with an ample dressing table, in a naturally well-lit position where her own brushes, jewellery and make up had been arranged in front of the mirror, all placed on a pretty cloth protecting the tables surface. She had been surprised when the mirror had complimented her, as she had prepared for the dinner party last night. A pair of armchairs near one of the windows, overlooking the back garden, with a small table between provided a lovely place to sit and relax, while a writing desk and chair had been placed in front of the other window. There was a large fireplace on the wall to her right, next to the door that led to a walk in wardrobe, where, she had noticed yesterday, her clothes had been carefully hung ready for her, a basket in one corner was provided for any laundry. A small, comfortable two seated sofa was positioned in front of the large fireplace; a folded table was leant against the wall beside the hearth, ready for use if needed. There was a night stand placed either side of the bed, vases of flowers on each.

She took another sip of the hot tea, her mind recalling the events of the night before. Her talk with Molly had helped her sort out her next step in her own mind, she had told Ginny's mother that she had had enough and would divorce Vernon as soon as possible, no longer would she put up with his bullying. The kindly witch, who she had known only a couple of weeks, had fast become a confidant for her, like no one else since her sister had been. The woman had told her all she knew of the life of Lily, Petunia's late, estranged sister. Petunia, in turn, had opened her heart about her life and the mistakes she had made through jealousy of her sister. Molly listened as she opened her heart in the drawing room, free of Vernon for the first time, free to admit what she had hidden for the sake of her marriage; she grieved for her sister for the first time, then for her nephews lost childhood and her part in his suffering. Towards the end of their conversation, Molly had offered Petunia whatever help she needed and she could give. They had agreed that the first thing Petunia needed to do was to meet with Kingsley, so that she and Dudley could formalize their stay in the Wizarding world, securing them under ministry protection for as long as they wanted. Whilst Petunia went to freshen up before the meal, Molly had owled the minister who had replied that he would meet with them this morning, with relevant paperwork for them to become residents of the Wizarding community, meaning he could act on their behalf in this world. She was nervous about meeting him, but knew she would need some help to begin her new life.

Over dinner the night before she had kept quiet, mostly listened as the guests had told her of Harry's exploits. She was horrified as she learnt what he had been through, between the summers at Privet Drive each year since he had turned eleven. The twins excitement over something called Quidditch, which her nephew and niece in law had apparently been very accomplished at, had made her realize how much she had to learn, not just about this world, but also about her sister's son.

She drained the last of the tea from the cup and slid out from beneath the covers on the comfortable bed, placing the cup and saucer on the dressing table, she then put on her dressing gown and slippers, she moved across the room.

"Good morning my dear." The mirror said as she glanced into it thinking her hair looked a fright after her nights rest. "Don't worry we shall sort that out, it won't take long to have you presentable for the day."

Petunia reacted to the mirrors voice. "Thank you." She said thinking that this was something she had to get used to.

She turned and left the room to go into the bathroom opposite for her morning ablutions, quarter of an hour later she returned, made the bed, then went into the wardrobe, selected what she would wear that day, dressed, then went across the room and sat at the dressing table. She picked up her hair brush and began to tame her hair, the mirror offering words of advice as she styled it, fixing it with spray. With the mirrors guidance she had given herself a style she had not worn before, it was looser, more flowing, than her usual style, one she liked very much. She smiled as she looked at herself in the glass, happy with what she saw for the first time in years.

"That's much better, my dear. Now you are ready to face anything. I hope you have a good day." The mirror said.

"It is, thank you for your help." Petunia acknowledged as she stood and left the room intending to make herself some breakfast in the basement kitchen.

Of course Kreacher was there already and would not hear of her making her own breakfast, he politely refused all her offers to help. She sat at the table watching as the elf worked making the meal she had requested seemingly effortlessly and soon she was tucking in to grapefruit and toast, refusing his offer to make her anything more. Having eaten she explored the houses garden, which she had seen from her bedroom windows. Kreacher assured her that he had removed all the dangerous plants his former masters had planted so she wandered out through the back door. The garden was large for London, with a large lawn as the main feature, she walked down the stone stairs from the Kitchen door to a gravel path and strolled along, past some glass panelled doors through which she could see into a bar lounge room, she wondered just how large her Nephews house was, she had not yet had the grand tour, as Dudley had called it. She followed the path, past beds full of plants, some familiar, some strange. A fountain played in a circular pool at the far end of the garden, next to the high wall that divided it from the neighbours plot, the path crossed almost to the back wall, which was broken by a set of wooden double gates as tall as the ivy covered bricks. She soon found an arbour, with a curved seat, surrounded by flowers to sit and relax in, overlooking the gardens, she took a seat in the dappled shade it provided and enjoyed the birdsong that filled the air away from the traffic of London.

* * *

Dudley stirred from a good night's sleep, although he had slept much of the day before, after driving all the previous night, he had still slept soundly after his reunion with Maria, the witch he had met at his cousins wedding and struck up a relationship with. Opening his eyes, he blinked and blearily looked round. He wondered where he was for a moment, not immediately recognising the room, before remembering he was in his cousin's house. Kreacher, his cousin's house elf, had asked him if he required a drink or anything when he woke this morning, to have whilst he dressed, but Dudley had declined preferring to get moving as he woke instead. Smiling he got up and dressed before going across the hall to the bathroom. Then he went down the stairs to find some breakfast in the basement kitchen. Kreacher was only too pleased to prepare him some bacon, egg and mushrooms, Dudley had turned down a full fry up knowing he wanted to lose weight, but still enjoyed a cooked Breakfast, the Elf had just taken a similar meal up for Harry and Ginny to eat in their room. As he ate Dudley thought over the events and conversation of the night before. The house and Quidditch had truly amazed him, Molly had Flooed George, which was an odd sight, but he had immediately offered Dudley a Job with Ron in the Hogsmeade branch, where they were building their own factory. It was a job Dudley had eagerly accepted, keen to have a job he knew he would enjoy, he was relishing the chance to settle into the world of his Girlfriend.

He and Maria had returned to the room that changed after dinner, it became a beautiful riverside park for them to walk in at Maria's request. They had walked and talked until Molly had come to take her home. She would return later today, Dudley missed her; they had grown closer as they had walked and talked about what they had done since his cousins wedding. That time in the park had been the first they had spent alone together; they had used it to get to know about each other. He felt so comfortable with her, nothing before in his life had felt this right to him and from their conversation in that amazing room, he knew Maria felt the same way. Even so they had agreed not to rush things, they were comfortable taking their time, enjoying getting to know each other properly. His thoughts were interrupted when his mother returned from the garden, looking more content than he had ever seen her. He was glad to see the fear and strain that had been evident on her face for so long gone, along with her old hairstyle, he smiled as she walked through the door, he knew her new look would not have been liked by his father. He was glad to see the first sign he could remember of her expressing herself, rather than appearing as Vernon demanded. She sat at the table while he finished breakfast, Kreacher placing a cup of tea in front of her.

"I like your new hair style mum." Dudley told her sincerely.

She smiled, lightly touched it. "Thank you Dudley, I thought our new start called for a new look for me, especially now I can decide for myself for the first time in years."

"You plan on staying in Harry's world then mum?"

"I do Dud, yes." She agreed then told him of the decisions she had come to and that the Minister himself would be visiting them to set the wheels in motion for them both.

They both knew there was much to do, before they would be completely free to enjoy their new lives. Petunia would need a job for starters and there was the fact they would be vulnerable to those who could use magic against them. Yet both of them felt, for the first time in a long while, optimistic about their future and knew they had made the right choice to leave their old lives behind. They were still talking when Harry and Ginny came down, both complemented Petunia on her new look, then Ginny took her on a grand tour of the house, leaving Harry and Dudley to ensure all was ready for their visitors.

* * *

An hour later Petunia and Ginny joined them in the lounge, where they waited for Kingsley to arrive.

"So which is your favourite bit of the house mum?" Dudley asked grinning.

"I am not sure where to start." She said. "You have an amazing home, not just the rooms, although it has to be said there are not many houses that can boast a ballroom, would you think me awful if I said the Garden was my favourite part though."

Harry laughed. "No Aunt, not at all, though I don't think I have actually been in it yet."

Kingsley arrived at Grimmauld Place mid-morning, just in time for elevenses to be served. Having been warned the evening before, he had with him the paper work ready for Dudley and Petunia. Harry and Ginny sat with them as they talked over future plans, while enjoying the mid-morning snack.

Kingsley was going through options for them based on their decisions so far. "So, as you have decided to live in the magical community, we need you to sign some forms, so that you can become citizens of our community with the same rights as everyone else. These are magical agreements and are therefore binding, but they do mean you will have the support of the Ministry officially in ending your old life and starting your new one in our jurisdiction. Signing them means you agree to abide by our laws; in return you will be counted as our citizens. Dudley from what you tell me George has offered you a job in his Hogsmeade branch, so we will need to get you a vault at Gringotts for gold you earn. Petunia I have actually a couple of options for you if you decide to stay and are interested. I think you met Minerva McGonagall Headmistress of Hogwarts at the wedding."

Petunia nodded agreement. "Yes, we gave her a lift from the village, scared the security guard a bit when he realised who was in the back seat I think, she is quite a character." She smiled.

"She certainly is." Kingsley grinned. "Right, well, she has need of a Muggle Studies Teacher, the previous post holder now works at the Ministry. She had begun to reform the lessons, a process I know Minerva would like to see continue and I am sure your up to date knowledge would be useful. In addition I know that Ginny's dad, Arthur who is my deputy, has a vacancy in the Muggle Relations department, which I think you would be good at. It's basically helping to liaise between us and the Muggle government, sorting out any incidents which involve Muggles and helping improve communications between the two governments. It and the teaching post do in fact have the same salary and employee benefits, Hogwarts is run by the governors, but they long ago linked their employees terms and conditions with those of the Ministry. You don't need to decide now, but Minerva does need to know soon, so the post holder has time to prepare for the start of term, you could be the first Muggle to teach at Hogwarts in living memory, possibly ever and the students would know that. Anyway we can sort everything out which ever job you choose, both us and the school see this as a unique opportunity for us. That all said we do have one difficulty that must be dealt with, namely Vernon. From what you say he won't want to join you in your new lives and anyway he is at least part of the reason we are discussing this, he may not like it, but he knows about the magical world. If he did decide to tell anyone it's doubtful he would be believed, I think we all agree it is doubtful he will come after you, having said that we will have to be sure. I understand you not wanting to go back to him and we can help with a divorce if that is what you wish, provide you with legal help, including injunctions to protect you from him, that sort of thing. I'm not sure what will be needed but I shall get them working on it today, I don't want to rush you or for you to feel pushed into the decision, but are you positive all that is what you want?"

"Minister, I have made my choice, he raised his fist to me and if it wasn't for Dudley he would have hit me. I am not going back to him, but I have little money for a divorce and I can't see him agreeing to one. That said I am certain it is what I want. There was a bank account, which he controlled, there was a separate account for housekeeping and such, which had an automatic transfer from his account each week, it never had much in it, but that's all I have, apart from my belongings. Dudley and I couldn't bring everything with us when we left, we could do with getting the rest of our belongings before I file for divorce. Otherwise it is quite likely that Vernon will destroy those things simply out of spite." Petunia said

"Well we can help with the costs of the divorce, at least until you get paid, if necessary. We also have specialists in Muggle law and a few solicitors are married to Wizarding folk who can help. As far as the things you left behind, we can arrange for their collection, but one of you will need to go with our people so they can enter the house legally. We could use magic, but it would be better if we didn't in these circumstances. I will arrange for the legal documents you will need and for whatever divorce papers needed at this point to be prepared. We shall find out what's in his account via Gringotts, so you can use what is, I understand, legally a shared asset too, The Goblins will enjoy sorting that out for you. Muggle authorities recognize our court, just as we do theirs, so there should be no problem working from either jurisdiction. Now which of you is willing to go to Privet Drive with a ministry team to collect your belongings?" Kingsley said.

"I'll go" Dudley volunteered. "I can take the car, I can take your people, but they will need to get back by themselves, that way I can fit more in the car, hopefully that way we can get it all in one trip."

"No need for the car, Dudley we'll get you there and back with everything." Kingsley smiled.

"Dud, unless anyone thinks it will make matters worse, I'll come with you. I know the house so I can help you pack the things, though I am not looking forward to seeing Vernon again." Harry offered.

Petunia snorted. "Harry, I am sure that unless it is us returning to him and his way of thinking, he will be in a foul mood no matter if you go or not, especially with anyone retrieving anything. I am certain he will regard any property there as his own, regardless of whom it belongs to and will create a fuss. I, however, would feel much better if you did go with Dudley, at least I know he will have someone he knows with him, so please if you feel you can I would be most grateful if you did go."

"Fine, that's settled then. How many Auror's are you sending with us Kingsley?" Harry asked.

"Four I think Harry, you are qualified though not officially in the department yet, so you'll make five, I'll make sure they are people that you know. Petunia make a list of what it is you need Dudley to collect and make sure he knows where it all is, I am sure he can sort out anything of his own, we'll try and do it this evening. So it leaves you the rest of the today to sort things out, I will need an affidavit from you Petunia so I can get things moving as soon as I get back. Harry, I suggest you get them to Gringotts to open a vault each today, I'll send Tom a message to get his guy's ready for you."

Kingsley drafted the papers he knew he would need to get things moving, Petunia and Dudley signed them, then received copy's along with some documents that would enable them to open vaults at the wizards' bank. He also gave them the papers that requested that the Goblins discover what was in Vernon's account and authorised them to ensure he could not empty it until the financial part of the divorce was settled on the Ministry's authority. Kingsley then helped Petunia complete filling out the Affidavit and summoned his clerk so it could be sworn, he then acted as witness himself, rather than Harry or Ginny as they were related to her and it could be seen as a conflict, so he erred on the side of caution. The Clerk left with the paper work the ministry needed to grant the two asylum as well as all the other matters and instructions to get the Ministry's legal team on to the work immediately. That all done, Kingsley then took Harry with Ginny to one side, while Petunia and Dudley put together the list of their belongings.

"Harry you had better let Petunia and Dudley know a few basic details of what to expect, especially going into Diagon Alley and Gringotts today. Not only that, but it's going to be hard for them to adjust to the magical world, especially once people realize who they are. Remember Rita's article during the Triwizard tournament identified them and described your upbringing, which could make them a target. If they are to be able to live a normal life in our world they need to be able to go out without you and not have to worry if one of your fans is going to try to get revenge for how they treated you. Of course there are also some who may try to get them just because they are related to you, so they need to be prepared, just in case, while we get things sorted out for them."

Harry agreed, two muggles moving to his world were going to be at a severe disadvantage and for his Aunt and Cousin simply being associated with him could bring various difficulties on its own. Given the known history between them, they could equally be targeted by his supporters or his enemies. Life, it seemed, would never be simple for him, but if they could stop it affecting his family, then he would.

Petunia and Dudley soon created the list of their belongings that they needed to retrieve from Privet Drive. Petunia had also decided that she would take the post at Hogwarts, it was a job that intrigued her, she had often wished she had been able to become a teacher, but had married Vernon who had not liked the idea of her working. So she had not pursued the dream, until now. Certainly she was nervous of it, but she spoke to Harry and Ginny, expressing her worries, their reassurances that the other staff would be helpful, she thought she could do it, so took the opportunity. They warned her how far behind the modern world the subject was, despite Hermione's efforts, so she decided that, although they wouldn't work at Hogwarts, Dudley's computer, TV and other electronic gadgets might be useful items to be able to show in class. Dudley was happy to let her use them as classroom aids, so they would be bringing those back too. Kingsley accepted her decision, graciously, although it did mean they would need to keep searching for someone to fill the Ministry position. Before he returned to the Ministry they told Kingsley that they would not go out until after lunch, Andromeda and Teddy were due to arrive soon after that and they were supposed to be meeting Molly and the twins. That had been arranged last evening, they had guessed that they would need to visit Gringotts, so had agreed to meet them after that. Kingsley nodded, he would arrange the security with Tom, ensuring his team knew who to expect then taking the list; he assured them he would see them later and stepped into the fire to Floo back to his office, to set all the different wheels in motion.

With Kingsley off arranging things, Harry and Ginny explained to his Aunt and Cousin what they might expect on their first visit to Diagon Alley and Gringotts, including press interest as well as the arrangements for their security while they were there.

Dudley took it all in his stride, but Petunia was surprised. "Are you sure it is a good idea to go at all, if there is going to be that much fuss?"

Ginny tried to reassure her. "It will be fine Petunia, we need to get things sorted for you both and the sooner we do that the better. Most of the attention will be on Harry and I, first appearance since the wedding, that kind of thing I expect, so don't worry. Besides we need to pick up the wedding pictures and we shall go shopping too, our first chance."

Petunia nodded, obviously still nervous about the attention they would attract, while Dudley slowly put his head in his hands. "Oh blimey, shopping." He groaned.

"Get used to it Dudders." Ginny growled menacingly, though with a big grin on her face. "Maria enjoys it too, so I see plenty of trips in your future and I am no seer."

* * *

After lunch the plan they had agreed, to go straight to Diagon Alley when Andromeda and Teddy arrived, went straight out of the window. Harry had fallen asleep on one of the sofas while they waited for them to arrive, which of course they did, five minutes after he had begun snoring. Teddy immediately climbed up to sit, protectively, next to Harry's prone form and leant against him. Andromeda took the opportunity to chat with Petunia, reassuring her over her worries about the attention they would inevitably get in Diagon Alley, the two were soon laughing and joking with each other. Dudley and Ginny listened to the two older ladies and kept an eye on Teddy, who was still a little cautious of his godfather's cousin, who really didn't know how to relate to the youngster, at least not yet, but that would come as the two grew to know each other.

They arrived at the Leaky Cauldron at 2 O`clock. Ginny had needed to wake Harry so they would not be late meeting Molly and the twins, although they had not got the other tasks done, they would need to do those afterwards. Once they had conducted their business at the bank, they could, as planned, help the twins do their shopping for Hogwarts and go shopping themselves, so it would all work out in the end.

The pub was packed with customers when they entered, Harry groaned as witches and wizards spotted him and Ginny, very quickly everyone in the pub was staring at them. Then, slowly they started to applaud, calling out congratulations to the couple. Dudley and Petunia were a bit uncomfortable as the four of them walked across the pub, to the bar, where the owner was stood.

"Hi Tom is Mrs. Weasley here yet?" Harry asked the barman, between acknowledging well-wishers.

"Yes they are waiting in the yard for you Harry, when you come back go through the back room if it's still this busy, less conspicuous. Aylwin's out there with some of my guys as well for you, sorry I forgot to tell Molly you were running late."

"Never mind Tom, not to worry, I'll see you later." Harry nodded as they walked to the back of the pub and out of the door, into the silence of the yard.

"Oh, I thought you would be coming from the other way?" said Mrs. Weasley, turning to great them.

"Harry fell asleep mum." Said Ginny. "Let's get into the alley and get on."

The twins smiled. "Bit packed in there Harry." Said Delilah

"Just a bit." He agreed. "Well Aunt, Dudley brace yourselves, it shouldn't be long before words out we are here I'm afraid."

He touched the brick wall with his wand and the bricks moved out of the way to form an arch, the group walked into the busy street.

Petunia and Dudley stared about them, at the sight before them. The narrow street stretching before them, bustling with people hurrying about their business among the shops that were selling all manner of strange objects. They were wide eyed at their first sight of the hidden street now before them, just as many others had been when they had arrived here for the first time, it was a chaotic scene, a cornucopia of goods hung outside shops, a multitude of baskets filled with produce were stacked on the pavements outside the outlets, it was an incredible sight. Petunia was amazed at the similarity it held in appearance to the medieval shopping streets still existing in places such as Chester and York, places she remembered visiting as a child, with her parents and sister. They headed down the cobbled street to Gringotts, the crowd parting as Aylwin and his colleagues cleared the way, the two muggles still gazing around at the plethora of goods in each shop they passed. The goods on display, so strange, yet so fitting for this place, Petunia and Dudley were beginning to realise just how different the magical world was from their own as they looked at unfamiliar products on display amongst others they recognised.

Bill met them in the foyer of the bank; he had been assigned to look after Harry on behalf of Gringotts recently, so the guards had informed him that they were in the Alley. It was quite an honour that the Goblins had bestowed on him; he was now the highest ranking human in the bank. Since his travels as a curse breaker on the banks behalf had been finished for over a year now, he had proved himself to them since the war ended and they had promoted him to a level usually held by a Senior Goblin to look after the accounts of the banks wealthiest client.

"Hello everyone." He greeted as they walked into the bank. "Need some gold Harry?"

"Yes Bill, but we also need to set up two vaults please, you met my Aunt and Cousin at the wedding didn't you?"

"Sure did, it's good to see you both again. Mum told me you were staying with Harry and Ginny. I hear Kingsley has been to see you this morning, he already has the Goblins checking on things for you, now have you got your papers with you?" He asked. Petunia produced the parchments from her bag and handed them to Bill who looked them over. "Great, that is all in order. Now if you come with me we'll sort it out, while Harry visits his vault. Mum you coming with them? I'll sort out some money for the twins while we are at it."

* * *

Twenty minutes later they were shopping for the twins' books and ingredients, ready for their new year at Hogwarts. Bill had very quickly assigned vaults to Petunia and Dudley, quite deep in the catacombs of the bank; they were after all under the protection of house Potter which had supplied an amount to be deposited in them in order to activate them immediately. Dudley had requested that the bank transfer the contents of his Muggle account to the vault, Bill advised he left enough in it to keep it active, so he could have access to his money in both worlds. Now they were enjoying exploring the shops with their family and new friends, as the group helped the twins and browsed for themselves too of course. They called in at Fortescue's, where, while they, including their guard, enjoyed ice cream, the twins told them how Eli and Maggie were. They had visited St. Mungo's that morning, to see the couple, Eli was no better, but both he and Maggie had enjoyed the visit, especially talking with the twins about the night before. As they sat in the sun at one of the tables outside the Ice Cream Parlour eating, an assistant from Quality Quidditch supplies came over with two long parcels, after speaking with Aylwin, who had run his wand over the packages, she was allowed through to speak with them.

"Mr. Potter, I am sorry to disturb you, but we have been asked to deliver these to a Mr. and Miss Wolfe, we were told they would be with you today."

Harry looked puzzled "Yes they are, Tarquin, Delilah these are for you apparently"

The twins took the parcels and looked at the labels

"They are from Eli and Maggie." They said in amazement.

The assistant smiled. "The order came from St. Mungo's, the lady who Flooed an hour or so ago was quite insistent they get to you today. She asked us to keep an eye out for you and deliver them, I am sorry we missed you when you went past earlier, so we were careful to watch for you coming back."

"Thank you for doing that, I hope it wasn't too much trouble." Harry said.

"No it was a pleasure." She assured him, and then turned to the twins. "I hope you like them, any problems with them just bring them back and we shall happily sort it out for you."

"We shall, thank you." The twins called as the smiling assistant left them.

"Well aren't you going to open them?" Ginny urged them grinning as the twins looked at the parcels excitedly.

With the excitement of children opening a gift, the twins ripped open the paper and opened the boxes within to reveal two Firebolt Lightning's, the first new broom to be released since the war. Not as fast as their predecessor, which both Harry and Ginny had, it was the ideal broom for two young chasers by reputation.

"Wow broomsticks." They said together.

"We told them about playing Quidditch at your house and what you had said to us, Mrs. Weasley told them it was true, but I didn't expect this." Smiled Tarquin.

"They shouldn't have spent this much on us." Said Delilah.

Molly smiled at the girls concern. "Don't worry they wanted to get them for you, your first brooms, especially after what you said and with these two training you." She indicated Harry and Ginny.

"Tell you what." Said Harry eagerly. "We need to call in at Swiftshot's to pick up the wedding photos, let's see if he will take your photo with the brooms, it would be something to give to Eli and Maggie as a thank you."

"Great idea." Said the twins together.

They finished their ice creams and with the twins proudly carrying the boxes containing the brooms they resumed shopping, firstly at Madam Malkin's. Whilst the twins were being fitted for new robes, Petunia surprised herself whilst looking through a rail of witches' robes, there were several, which she quite liked. They were cut so beautifully and in various colours she had never thought of trying before, even though she liked them, they were not hues that Vernon would have let her wear, even though they were not outrageous, but no of course she could suit herself. Ginny and Andromeda encouraged her to try them on; they had found a few items themselves as well. Soon Harry, Teddy, the twins and Molly were enjoying a fashion show the three ladies put on in the various outfits. Dudley had found some robes he liked too, so the grand finally was introduced by Ginny, he appeared from the changing room where he was joined by Andromeda and his mother stood either side of him, Teddy laughed loudly and cheered.

"I think Teddy approves." Laughed Harry as the child bounced excitedly on his knee.

Madam Malkin smiled and walked over to Petunia. "They are beautiful on you my dear." She said, carefully checking the fit. "They are a perfect fit; they could have been made for you."

"Yes, I can't choose between these, they are wonderful though, I never thought I would like magical fashion so much, well I had better get changed so we can get on, it was fun though." Petunia smiled happily.

Ginny glanced to Harry and winked, he nodded and stood just as Dudley came out back in his street clothes, carrying the deep blue robes he had worn over his arm. He handed them to Madam Malkin. "I would never have thought robes were so comfortable." He said.

She smiled and went to put the robes back on the rail; Harry stopped her and whispered something to her. She nodded then went to help Petunia, still carrying the robes Dudley had tried on. When they emerged, instead of returning the clothes to the hangers, Madam Malkin carefully wrapped them in tissue and placed them in boxes next to the bags containing Tarquin and Delilah's new school robes.

"Oh I would love to take them all, but I don't think I can afford it." Petunia tried to stop her.

"Don't worry Aunt, I am paying for them for you, the ones Dud tried to, they can be adjusted once he loses weight." Harry told her. "Ginny and I can afford it and we wanted to get you something, think of them as a late birthday present if you like."

"Oh Harry I can't let you do that, I haven't any money to pay you back." Petunia said gently, marvelling at her nephew's kindness.

Ginny came to Harry's side, "You don't have to Petunia, they are a gift, you are family so it's no problem. Think of it as a way to mark the start of your new lives."

"Are you sure Harry?" Dudley asked.

"Positive, Big D." Harry replied, reassuringly and handed over the Galleons to Madam Malkin.

They had a lot of shopping having got the twins books and other supplies before stopping for ice cream so Harry sent the children's shopping and broomsticks back to the Burrow, then the robes to Grimmauld place before they set off towards Swiftshot's.

They entered the familiar dark shop and rang the bell to summon the proprietor who soon entered the room. Mr. Swiftshot was delighted to see them again and only too pleased to take the picture of the twins against the background of the Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch. The process fascinated Dudley and amazed Petunia, so they had a picture of the two of them taken as well. The background they chose was the park at Spinners End where Petunia had played with her sister as a child. Once the two pictures had been taken the photographer took the fresh images back into the shop and laid them on the counter. The twins picked a frame and the image was wrapped for them to take to St Mungo's with them the next day. There were two copies of Petunia and Dudley's picture, one for each of them. They picked a frame for each and Mr. Swiftshot parcelled them up for them as well, this time Petunia insisted on paying for them before Harry could. The photographer then produced the Album of wedding photos from a cupboard behind the counter, increasing the light in the room he proudly turned the pages so Harry and Ginny could view each image, the others moved to the back of the shop near the window, allowing the couple a little privacy so they could see them first. The pictures were fantastic, neither of them had noticed the photographer taking photographs before and during the service, or even during the reception or evening, but he had managed to discretely cover the whole day, as well as the formal pictures. A few of them were to be published in the Quibbler that week, along with the official report of the day; Mr. Swiftshot showed them which of the images had been selected for the magazine. He continued to turn the pages, but when he reached the ones of the binding, they could tell his nerves were rising. The man paused before he showed them the next pictures among the formally posed ones taken after the service.

His voice was almost apologetic; clearly he was bemused by something. "I must confess, that I am puzzled by one of the pictures on the next pages Mr. And Mrs. Potter, I feel it only fair to warn you before I show you them. They should be almost identical, but one is not at all what I expected, nor what I saw through the lens at the time, I am unsure how to explain it or if the image will be acceptable, I leave that to you." He turned the page of the album and indicated one of the two images it contained.

Harry looked at the picture, and drew in his breath. "It's them!" He gasped.

Ginny was staring at the picture in disbelief. "Oh my word, Harry. They were with us after all my love." She grasped his arm tightly in hers.

"Who were?" Asked Molly coming over to them puzzled as tears began to fall down Harry's cheeks.

She looked at the picture; it was one of two taken when the Stag and Doe had posed unexpectedly with the couple. The first showed what everyone had seen, the two deer with the couple, but the second was the one that drew attention from them. Harry and Ginny were stood in the spot between where the Deer should have been and were in the other picture, only there was no Stag and no Doe in this one. Either side of the happy couple stood two obviously proud figures, a glowing aura gently shimmering around them.

"That's impossible, how on earth?" Molly exclaimed.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

My thanks as always to Balthazar91 for his work as Beta for this story. Also thanks to those who have taken the trouble to review chapters so far. I will always do my best to reply via the messaging system where possible to reviews. I am also grateful to those who have followed/favourited my stories and Author page.  
Until next time, best wishes to you all.  
Tgfoy

 **Historical notes:**

Sheep: The fleece of sheep at the time naturally molted and did not need shearing. They were smaller, more goatlike than most modern breeds, although Soay's are the closet breed to still be seen on occasion these days.

Moneyer: This was the name of the crafts men authorized to make coins. Each community would have its own moneyer making coins from solid silver (in the U.K.) to designs authorized by the King. The coins were made by first making the dies, two of them by using a scribe like tool struck by a hammer to make indentations in the metal face of the die. There were two dies for each coin, one for each side of the coin. One die was set in the centre of a large tree trunk, which was cut down to a working height; the other die was left loose. A Blank disk of solid silver was placed on top of the set die, the silver disk weighing a set amount, a collar was then slid over that die and the second die dropped into place. The top die was then struck sharply with a hammer one time and then the top die and the collar were then removed and the newly minted coin revealed. This coin was a penny, it had a large spending power, so if the value of the goods was half the value of the penny it was simply cut into two, or if the value was a quarter then the coin was cut into four, or Forth things as they were called, hence the name of the old coin Farthing. Moneyers also made jewellery from both silver and Gold.

A Cordwainer is a skilled leather worker, who would design and make anything made of leather especially shoes. The trade is separate and distinct from that of a cobbler, which is simply a repairer of leather goods. The distinction was jealously guarded, a Cordwainer could repair goods, but usually would not do so. A cobbler was not allowed to make anything from leather, though they could train to become a Cordwainer if they wished. The penalty for a cobbler doing a Cordwainer's work was extremely severe. Shoes were made to measure, to get the correct size the customer would stand on a piece of leather and what would become the sole of the shoe would be cut out around the bare feet. The style of shoe would then be chosen depending on the wealth of the customer, leather was an expensive commodity, it would have been processed many times between animal and shoe, including tanning. So shoes were another status symbol, the more leather in them, the wealthier the wearer. Cordwainer's Guilds still exist in London and York.

Hvitsby literally translates as whites farm, now Whitby, a coastal town in north Yorkshire. Hvitsby was whites farm (the meaning of by). There is much information about this town in my other story (Harry Potter and the Essence of Revenge: chapter "Whitby"), however we have an additional piece of information in this chapter. Oswy, Saxon King of Northumbria, founded the abbey at Whitby in AD 657 on the site of a Roman signal station. He appointed the niece of the first Christian king of Northumbria the first Abbess. The Abbey was a double monastery; it had one part for Nuns and another for Monks. In 654 AD the abbey was the site of the Synod of Whitby and many important church figures from the Christian world attended and the Northumbrian church was reconciled with Rome and the formula for deciding when to celebrate Easter was decided. By the Ninth century the abbey was abandoned, though the site remained important for Christians as the faith spread it's influence in the south. It was reformed in 1078 as an Abbey inhabited by monks until it was finally dissolved in the reign of Henry the Eighth (the King who famously had six wives). The ruins of the Abbey still stand high above the town.


	6. A Right Royal Rumble

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise from the books by J. K. Rowling remains hers and hers alone, I make no claim on them.

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

 **A Right Royal Rumble.  
**

 **Late 20th Century.**

Ron and Hermione were still unpacking boxes in their new house, in Hogsmeade, they had moved in the day before Harry and Ginny had returned from their honeymoon. The last couple of days had been spent unpacking boxes and moving furniture into position and getting settled into their new home. The house was close to the edge of the village, on the road that led up to the castle, though Hogwarts was out of sight beyond the trees. It was only a few minutes' walk from the shop, Weasley's Wizardly Wheezes, which Ron was now full time manager of, for George, though he was only going in a couple of hours a day this week, just while they sorted out the house. Hermione had the week off from the ministry, where she was heading a new team in the department of magical law enforcement, looking at integration of magical creatures and their legal status, where she was already one of the most respected policy makers in the new regime.

Ron had been in to the shop for the morning, it was nearing lunch time as he walked back along the street, greeting his new neighbours as he passed them on his way back to the cottage, the couple were of course already known in the village. Ron had lived in the flat above the shop for the last year, where Hermione had visited him of course and of course they were well known throughout the Wizarding world. Even so many villagers knew the couple from their days at the school visiting the village and Ron in particular because his family were well known among the community, mainly thanks to the antics of Fred and George. He had spent the few hours he had at work over the last few days organising the new factory and warehouse, which was to become the main storage location for the company, increasing the space available at the Diagon alley shop for his brother to invent and test new products. With moving into a new home as well, it was a busy time for the couple, but he had to admit a happy one as well.

He turned the corner from the square into the curved street, believed to be one of the oldest parts of the Village, it led out of the village towards the school. Facing him at the apex of the distant bend in the road was his new home. Each time he saw it, he could scarcely believe it belonged to Hermione and himself now, not long ago he couldn't have owned a shed in the village. Like most of the properties in Hogsmeade it could accurately be described as picturesque, its white washed stone walls pierced by traditional windows with their twelve panes of glass in each, six on each sash. The front door was set beneath a thatched porch which matched the roof, roses climbing the supports on either side of the wooden stable type door. The front garden behind a white painted picket fence was a confection of colour from the cornucopia of bright blooms of the multitude of plants it contained, some of the flowers giving off a remarkably sweet scent which filled the air in welcome to their home. The fine, sand coloured gravel path, edged with red bricks set diagonally on end forming a row of low triangles pointing to the sky, linked the gate directly to the porch exactly half way between the two low, tightly trimmed hedges that separated their garden from those of their neighbours. It was a cottage Hermione had long admired, ever since her first visit to the village back in their third year and now it was theirs. Ron was still confused about Hermione describing it as a chocolate box cottage; it didn't look like any box of chocolates he had ever seen. The previous owner had died in the battle of Hogwarts, their adult sons both now lived in Chester and had no need of the house so had been overjoyed to sell it to the couple, who, in turn, were ecstatic that it fell within what they could afford, thanks to their earnings of the previous year. They had even had money over to buy furniture to supplement what they had been given by Hermione's parents. Behind the house were some out buildings, another colourful flower garden, a well stocked vegetable patch and a paddock large enough for Quidditch practice, complete with a small orchard. A large pond was set near this boundary of the land, with a summerhouse overlooking it complete with a terrace to sit on, on warm summer evenings, watching dragon flies float on their gossamer wings amongst the reeds and tall bull rushes, in the small marsh on the other side of the pool of water. Ron guessed it was this wetland that gave the cottage its name of "Titch Marsh Cottage". Even the view across the back garden and paddock was awe inspiring, the mountains forming the backdrop to a wild field crossed by a stream and on a low embankment, the railway used each day by the same train that formed the Hogwarts Express. Its passage south each morning leaving a trail of smoke in its wake and the sounds of it's return in the evening, as it slowed to stop at the station at the other end of the village adding a romantic ambiance to their evenings on the terrace of the summer house.

He was more content now than he had been for years, life was good, he enjoyed his work, had a nice house to live in with room for flying in a wonderful place, and best of all he had Hermione, the love of his life. For him things simply could not get much better. He smiled as he opened the gate and saw her hanging curtains at the sitting room window; he waved as he closed the gate and walked up the path to the door. Opening it he called. "Hi love, how's it going?"

They had decorated the hall the day before. Hanging his coat on the hooks, he noticed Hermione had added a small table with a large vase of flowers as a welcome to their home, above it was a photograph of them both, taken by Mr. Swiftshot as their home's guardian portrait, though it was much smaller than Harry and Ginny's, more in scale with their house. A mirror was hung on the opposite wall next to the door to the sitting room. Three stairs were visible in the hall; they led to a small platform from where the stairs to the first floor sprang at a right angle to the first few. Further down the hall were doors leading to a dining room opposite the sitting room at the front of the house, then the kitchen and scullery at the back.

"Almost done in here Ron, everything all right at the shop?"

"Quiet, a few visitors on the way up to the memorial, that's all, but at least it gives us a chance to get the factory and warehouse in order."

Hermione emerged from the sitting room. "Good, we should be able to do the dining room after lunch. Just a couple of things left to do in here, won't take me long. Would you make some sandwiches for us while I finish off?"

"Of course. I'll bring them in to you when they're ready."

She nodded and disappeared back into the room while Ron went to the kitchen. Ten minutes later, he emerged carrying a tray with a plate of sandwiches, some fruit, two glasses, a couple of plates and a jug of pumpkin juice. He carefully nudged the door open with his foot and walked into the sitting room, Hermione was sat on the sofa staring into space, so, putting the tray on the coffee table, he sat next to her.

"Lunch 'Mione", he said, startling her. She jumped, knocking the coffee table and causing the pumpkin juice to splash a little onto the tray.

"What?" She cried, then realising what had happened, she calmed down. "Oh! Sorry Ron, I was miles away."

"I noticed!" He chuckled syphoning the spilled juice with his wand. "No book in front of you either love, what's wrong?"

"Oh it's nothing really, just thinking." She shook herself and changed the subject. "Your Mum and the twins came round this morning before going to the hospital, they helped for a little while, but Tarquin and Delilah were full of going to Harry and Ginny's last night. Seems they showed Dudley a mini Quidditch match and he loved it. Your mum had a long talk with Petunia, looks like they are going to settle in our world."

"Wow, hope Harry's coping with his cousin and Aunt in the house, there's a lot of history there." Ron replied and took a bite out of a sandwich.

Hermione reached for one herself. "It's only been a day Ron, I am sure they are coping all right, I think they are moving on from the past, certainly with Dudley, he was there for them all last year after all. He and Petunia were at the wedding, you saw Harry was happy about it. Anyway, Molly says they are all going shopping this afternoon, Kingsley was visiting them this morning to sort out some paperwork for them apparently, so I am sure they will settle in time."

They ate their lunch, chatting, then sat enjoying a rest before resuming unpacking their belongings and decorating the room. It wasn't long before Hermione fell silent again, her thoughts drifting.

Ron nudged her gently. "'Mione, are you sure everything's all right?" Concerned this time, he guided her back to the sofa.

"Yes, I'm sure Ron, my mind wandering again, that's all." She snuggled up to him.

"It's just not like you love, unless, as I say, you have a book to read of course." He smiled.

"Oi! I'm not that bad." She grinned back.

They both laughed. "Five more minutes should see us finished in here, then we had better get started on the dining room." She sighed. "Then at least we can be ready to ask family round."

Ron nodded in agreement and got up ready to resume his task, but Hermione didn't move. He looked down at her, she once more had the far off look on her face, her eyes fixed. She was staring across the room, with glaze eyes, he had noticed this had been happening more and more, especially since they had visited Whitby, just before the wedding. She occasionally just seemed to be elsewhere, Ron was getting more and more concerned about her, he wondered if perhaps she should see a healer, though he had noticed that it seemed to happen in their sitting room, first in their flat, now here in the cottage. He followed her gaze to see if there was some thing that was perhaps the focus, most of the things they had in here had been in their rooms above the shop. Her eyes were directed straight at a picture on the side board, he recalled it had been in the first box she had opened once the furniture was placed, the day they had moved in, it had been in the same place in the flat, visible from what had become her favourite place to sit there. She had placed the picture carefully where it could be seen easily from most of the room, its simple wooden frame matched the colour of the piece of furniture on which it sat. It was a picture they had bought in Whitby on their first visit when they had holidayed there last summer, it showed the abbey and adjacent church atop the cliff next to the harbour. He looked back at her, her eyes were transfixed with the image, just as she had felt drawn up the steps to that place on the day they had visited the coastal town a few weeks ago. What was it that fascinated her, so completely, about that particular cliff top of all places? He had no idea and doubted if Hermione did either. "Hermione." He called and again she jumped.

"Right Ron, lovely as cuddling like this is we had better get on or we shall never get it finished." She said it as if nothing unusual had happened.

She stood, picked up the tray and walked to the door, looked back at Ron's bemused face. "You coming Ron?" she asked.

He nodded rose and joined her.

"Really Ron, are you sure you're not overdoing it at work?" she said gently as they left the room.

* * *

Mr. Swiftshot was looking a little alarmed. "I assure you I didn't do this Mr. Potter. I cannot explain it, but every time I exposed this negative to make a print, this was the result sir. I shall destroy it immediately for you."

"No, Mr Swiftshot, in fact, can you do me an enlargement please? Not as large as the Guardian portrait, but still large one, it will be going in a significant place in our home." Harry smiled sadly, looking at the photographer.

"Of course I can Mr. Potter, but I don't understand." He looked puzzled.

Delilah tugged Harry's sleeve, she had been curious at the responses, so had come over to look. "Do you know them Professor?"

Harry smiled, "Yes Delilah, I do, although I thought it was impossible for them to be at my wedding, let alone in the pictures, it means so much that they were after all." Ginny squeezed his hand reassuringly, and as he paused to gather himself, he smiled to her briefly then added. "You see they both died, a long time ago."

He gazed back at the picture where the two figures smiled happily at him, he smiled. "If you would do that Mr. Swiftshot, same style of frame as our portrait please." He turned to Petunia who was looking puzzled. "Aunt, you won't believe this, but it looks like you and Dud weren't my only relatives at our wedding after all."

"Don't be daft Harry, we haven't anyone else, unless Vernon was hiding somewhere, being quiet about you for the first time in your life." She was now very puzzled, then her face became a mixture of sadness and realisation. "You just said that the people in the picture were dead? You can't mean..."

"Who?" Dudley asked, as his mums hand flew to cover her mouth, tears welling in her eyes.

"Dudley, come and meet your Aunt and Uncle." Harry smiled.

Mr. Swiftshot's eyes widened, "You can't mean that they are..." His initially startled voice faded away as the revelation set in.

Petunia and Dudley moved across the shop to look at the image. Petunia gasped as Lily waved enthusiastically to her. "Oh Lils, I am so sorry." She murmured, turned to Harry, tears rolling down her face and hugged him, finally grieving for her sister as he comforted her.

Well over an hour later with shopping completed and magically sent back to Grimmauld place, they decided to floo home from Fred and George's shop, rather than walk back. George greeted them cheerfully as the twins ran through the door.

"Hi you two, come to see your favourite Weasley I see." He grinned.

"Hi George, we got new brooms..." Tarquin said excitedly

"...From Eli and Maggie." Delilah finished.

"That's great." George replied as the rest of the group entered the shop. "You shopping or just passing through?" He asked the others.

"Just passing through this time George," Molly replied.

"That's OK", he said, winking at the twins and passing then something which caused the two to giggle as they pocketed the gift.

"That better not be anything dangerous George." His mother said warningly.

"Of course not mother, you wound me." He dramatically feigned being wounded. "As if I would put anything dangerous into hands so young, just something they may find useful when they get back to school."

The twins were giggling harder than ever, but settled when they saw Molly's stern glance. "Yes well, so long as it doesn't get them in trouble." she said thoughtfully.

"Hey Dudley." George turned to Harry's cousin. "I am working on that job for you, we are expanding again up at Hogsmeade. We've got a new storage facility and factory being put together in what was a barn or something up there behind the shop. I will talk to Ron tomorrow about it for you, he runs things up there, so I have to sort things out with him, but I expect he will want to concentrate on the shop so I shall need someone to run the new facility. I expect it will be sorted out by the end of tomorrow, but the factory won't be ready until almost the time when Harry goes back to Hogwarts, so you'll have time to settle in a bit mate."

"Thanks George, sounds good to me, I'll need time to sort out where to live though." Dudley grinned looking round the shop in wonder.

"Don't worry about that, I have a thought about that too, just right for you. Tell you what, I'll organise all that, in the meantime we shall get you in here to see the stock and what we do before you go up there. All I will ask is if either of us are not happy, we let each other know, otherwise the jobs yours as long as you want it." George grinned.

They agreed that George would collect Dudley the next afternoon to bring him to the shop, then they went upstairs to his flat and the fireplace, leaving him in the shop. They instructed Petunia and Dudley how to use the Floo, then Harry led the way followed by Dudley, who took it in his stride, then a nervous Petunia. The twins followed excitedly, then Andromeda who was carrying Teddy, Molly brought up the rear. Dudley and Petunia took some time to recover from their first trip by floo, it was not an experience they had enjoyed particularly, but both knew it was a method of travel they would need to get used to.

Kreacher put the large picture from Swiftshot's on the wall in the entrance, it would be the first picture any visitors to the house would see. They gathered in the lounge, wedding albums spread on the coffee table between them. Harry fell asleep on one of the sofas whilst the others admired the photographs in the album, describing their memories of the day to each other. The twins and Dudley entertained Teddy, until he joined Harry for his afternoon nap, during which the twins persuaded Dudley to show them his car in the workshop. It was still dirty from the journey half way up the country and back on the motorway, but once the twins had tested each seat and looked at the engine, they found some rags, buckets and tins of polish, then set about cleaning the car. The afternoon seemed to pass quite quickly as they worked, soon Dudley and the twins returned to the lounge just in time to greet Maria as she arrived straight from work as they had agreed the day before. She had started at the Ministry in the department of magical law enforcement support office a few days after the wedding and was enjoying the job immensely, especially the variety her office dealt with. From the elite Auror's and Hermione's team, to the guard rota's for Azkaban and the training classes, they dealt with them all, ensuring everything each wing needed from ordering to secretarial support was provided, they were the link between every division in the department as well as to the rest of the Ministry. The couple fortuitously met in the Hall after Kreacher had let her in, she hugged Dudley before they both followed the twins into the lounge. Kreacher brought her a dink and she was shown the wedding photos, while Dudley went to shower and change. He returned to the room just as Harry awoke which signalled to Molly that it was time she and the twins left by floo to the Burrow, the twins reminding Dud that he had promised that their reward for cleaning the car was to have a ride in it next time they could. It was a promise which, although made well into the task, he would be pleased to keep.

* * *

Once Molly and the twins had gone, Dudley and Petunia began talking over the plans for that evening, Harry explaining what the Aurors would do. The moment Maria heard that Dudley and Harry were returning to Privet Drive, she had wanted to go with them, she was very worried about Dudley going and his Fathers response so soon after they had left, it was only two day's after all. Dudley was conversely more worried about what his father might do to her if she came, for much the same reasons. It was Ginny and Andromeda who persuaded her to stay behind and let the team get on with the task. It did help that Ginny and Harry promised to keep their link open so they would at least know if they needed any more help, though they didn't expect to have too much trouble with a team of Aurors with them.

The Aurors were due to meet them in the park near Privet Drive, it was close enough for them to walk to the house and had plenty of cover should any Muggles be about. A few minutes before they were due to meet the team, Harry took his cousin by side-along apparition to a spot directly behind the pavilion where they would not be observed by any of the locals who may be using the park.

"That was better than the floo." Dudley gasped when they arrived in the quiet corner of the park and started walking towards the pre-arranged meeting point. "Still odd though."

"Takes a bit of getting used to, so does the floo mind." agreed Harry. "When you have lost a bit of weight I'll take you up on a broom Dud, though Maria might want to do that, she has a Nimbus 2000 same as my first one."

"There are times I wish I was a wizard like you Harry." laughed Dudley "Then I remember the battle you guys had to fight that most muggles know nothing about and am glad I ain't."

"Yes, not all fun, there are some drawbacks on both sides of the divide. Anyway let's find the others before they get themselves in trouble" Harry grinned, looking round the park.

There were a few people there, which was unsurprising, it was a warm evening. There were a couple of families at the play area, a group of teenagers playing football on the large grassy area, a line of people were queued at an Ice Cream van parked near the gate. There was the sound of tennis being played in the courts on the far side of the park, while they could see white dressed pensioners playing bowls on the greens.

A small group of people had assembled in the formal gardens, close to the raised pond where a fountain played, trying to look casual, while keeping an eye out around them, that was the meeting point.

Harry rolled his eyes, "There they are." He chuckled at their effort not to be noticed.

Dudley laughed. "Well you warned me that they might be as nervous about being here as us."

They walked over to the group, trying not to show their mirth as they were noticed. The man who was obviously in charge pointed his wand at the two young people as soon as they reached them. Harry recognised him as the head of the Auror division and did not react to the aggressive move.

"What was the last element of training you passed?" The Wizard asked Harry.

"Concealment, which I passed preventing an attack on Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger in April this year, in the woods between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade." Replied Harry.

"Hello, Harry." He responded with a smile, putting his wand away, "Good to see you again. Sorry about that, had make sure you were you, you know."

"Of course you did Alphonse, constant vigilance as Kingsley would say," Said Harry testing the other wizard, his hand on his own wand.

"You mean as Mad Eye would say." Alphonse corrected.

"Glad to see it's really you my friend." Laughed Harry. "This is Dudley my cousin by the way, it's his dad who is the problem."

Alphonse realised he had been tested and laughed. "Mad Eye taught you well Harry, testing without the target realising, well done mate, glad you are still on form. I'm sorry your illness has stopped you joining us this year, I need you on my team."

"I know, but it can't be helped I'm afraid, you know where I am though and I will see you at cabinet meetings." Harry said, then looking round the group, he recognised the Auror's who had helped in his and Ginny's protection last year, he introduced Dudley round the group.

"Right Dudley, lead the way if you would, when we get to Privet Drive and can see the lay of the land, we'll decide how best to approach this." Alphonse suggested.

"Sure, this way." Dudley indicated the gate closest to Privet Drive.

He led the group out of the park and into the street, all the wizards were in muggle suits, looking far more natural on the move than they had standing around. No one cast the group more than a second look, as they walked down the busy street towards their destination, they just looked like a group of commuters making their way along the street. It was only a few minutes before they emerged from the alley and into Privet Drive.

"Good grief, has no one here got any idea of individuality?" One of the Aurors asked in amazement at the uniformity of the houses and gardens.

Dudley nudged Harry. "Aunt Marge is here."

Harry saw the Range Rover parked on the drive outside their destination and groaned. "Alphonse, there is a complication. Vernon's sister is here, that's her car on the drive. If she's here, that means there will be a number of spoilt, undisciplined dogs here with her and Vernon is more likely to throw his weight around in front of her, trying to show he is in charge even if he isn't. She won't be pleased to see us either, especially me. She is likely to make Vernon look almost pleasant, but she has no knowledge of magic." He warned the Auror, who nodded acknowledgement of this information.

"She the one we had to deflate and obliviate a few years ago? Horrible woman that was, foul mouth on her." He asked, Harry nodded and Alphonse gathered the others to brief them.

* * *

Vernon and Marge were relaxing watching the early evening news, a glass of whiskey each, in their hands, while dinner was cooking in the kitchen emitting delicious smells that filled the air. The dogs were laid on the carpet between them quietly snoozing, knowing that their active day was almost done. Vernon had had a productive day at work, knowing Marge was looking after the house and was there, should his wife or son return as he fully expected that they would. Her main activity that day had been to exercise her dogs in the local park, where she had berated the gardener, who had the audacity to complain that she wasn't clearing up after them. He had even offered her a free poop-a-scoop, so she could do the task herself. The cheek of the man, acting as if her dogs little tokens were diseased and needed clearing up, so what if they had been left in a children's area. He was paid to keep the park fit for use, he had the problem with it, he could clear it up. If a child was stupid enough to get the stuff on themselves, that was hardly her responsibility after all. She glanced down at her little darlings, smiling fondly at them. Suddenly one raised its head and looked to the door it's ears cocked, then it started barking, causing Vernon to jump, all the dogs stood as one and ran to the door barking madly.

"Someone's here!" Said Marge just before the doorbell rang and the dogs fell silent. "That's odd! I've never known them do that, they usually let whoever it is know they are there until I get to the door at home."

Vernon stood "I'll see who it is."

Dudley rang the bell, and the dogs they could hear inside fell silent. He looked round to see Alphonse put his wand away and wink. "They won't be a problem now." He said.

Dudley chuckled.

The door opened just enough for them to see his father's face look out. Seeing Dudley he grinned and opened the door further.

"Dudley my boy! You're back, I knew you would see sense." Vernon eyes then fell on the rest of the group, spotting Harry. "Son, what's going on, why are you here with that freak?"

"Nice to see you too, Uncle," muttered Harry, only slightly sarcastically, grinning as he felt Ginny's reassurance through the link.

Dudley smiled. "They are here at my invitation, aren't you going to let us in?"

"Dudley, you know you are welcome, this is your home, but I don't see why you need all these people with you." Vernon answered.

"We'll discuss this inside Mr. Dursley, if you don't mind, after all the neighbours don't need to see all this do they." Alphonse said authoritively.

Dudley stepped forward, his father stepped aside automatically. "Come on in." Dudley told them and they all walked in.

"Hang on! No, wait a minute! I don't want all of you in here. Marge, call the police" He blustered as the whole group pushed past him.

"I don't think that will be necessary, your son has invited us in to what you described as his home." Alphonse said firmly. "Besides, we shan't be long, so long as you allow your son to do what he came for, besides we are a type of Police as you call them."

They went into the sitting room as Marge was picking up the phone.

"Dudley!" She called, as he led the way in, she smiled as she saw him, Harry followed him in and her face fell.

"You! I might have guessed filth like you would be behind this, you worthless runt. Let's stop you being a burden to my brother once and for all!" She spat and began to dial.

Harry calmly pointed his wand at the phone and the line went dead. "Hello Marge." He said pleasantly, replacing his wand in the pocket in his robe. "As pleasant as usual I see, sit down won't you, this is none of your business."

"How dare you speak to me like that, who do you think you are you ungrateful little runt?" She shouted, but fell silent as Vernon came in with the Aurors, all with wands at the ready.

"I suggested you sit down, Dudley has something to do here and it is nothing to do with you." Harry said firmly. "We are here merely to support my cousin and ensure nothing untoward occurs."

"Dudley, are you allying yourself with this scum, rather than your father?" Marge demanded.

"After what he did to mum, or at least tried to do if I hadn't stopped the oaf, yes. Harry and his wife have given us a home and been far more welcoming than you have, even though we are not magical and are outsiders." Dudley said. "Now sit down, and shut up!"

Marge turned purple with rage and began to speak. "What on earth are you babbling about, magical indeed, there is no such thing. I don't know what they have done to you, but..." She suddenly fell silent in surprise, a chair had slid forcefully across the floor behind Marge, hitting the back of her legs and she fell into it.

Harry smiled. "Are you sure she isn't half Banshee with that voice of hers?" He asked Dudley, then waved his hand and the chair slid back to its usual position.

"Dudley, did you see that, he pushed me, see what sort of person he is? The sort to attack a helpless woman." She bellowed.

"No, he didn't, that would be the type of person your brother is. I know what sort of person Harry is, an honourable one." Dudley told her. "He, Aunt Marge, is a wizard and so are the gentlemen with me. Dad lied to you about so many things, not least my Uncle James and Aunt Lily, where Harry was at school, and what he was doing there. It may have taken me a while to grow up enough to look at my cousin for who he is not what I was told he was, but at least I see him as he truly is now. Did you know Aunty that Harry is a hero, even our government and the Queen recognised that when she knighted him last New Year, so shut up and let us get on. I don't want to stay in your company, or your bully of a brothers company, longer than I absolutely have to."

"Vernon, the boys brain washed, he is delusional, wizards, hero, knighthood, what claptrap! Anyone can see the freak is worthless." Her words were cut short as one of the Aurors silenced her, the large woman's mouth was still moving, but no words were coming out.

"Blimey, she is half banshee Harry" Said the Witch.

Dudley and Harry laughed as Vernon looked in alarm.

"What have you done to her? How dare you?"

"Mr. Dursley. We are here to collect the rest of your wife's belongings along with those of your son. If you will listen to him, he will tell you more." Alphonse told the angry man.

Vernon stared at his son. "Well Dudley what's going on? Why have you brought these bloody freaks into my house? You know I am a reasonable man son, you know I would forgive you when you came home, what have I ever done to deserve this?"

"Mum and I have left you, as her note said. Mum is sick of the way you behave and I can't say I blame her. For her, you trying to hit her was the final straw, you and we know that if I hadn't acted to defend her you would have succeeded as well. I believe we have a letter from her solicitor for you and we have a court order preventing you from stopping us removing the property listed, the order also informs you that you may not initiate contact with us, except through solicitors of course. These gentlemen are here to serve that order and ensure neither you nor dear Aunt interferes in any way with what we are here to do. Harry is here because I have asked him to help me gather the items and take them away to his house."

"Son, haven't I always treated you well? I don't know what happened, what came over me. Can't you see it's the boy's fault, we should never have taken him in, if he hadn't been foisted on us then none of this would have happened." Vernon pleaded.

"Foisted on us, for crying out loud Dad, don't you get it. If your sister had had a child and then been murdered as Harry's parents then would you have been happy to take that child in?" Dudley asked.

"Well of course we would have Dudley, a surrogate sibling for you, an equal to grow up with you." Vernon replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"But, you couldn't do that for the child of your wife's sister."

"Of course not, we knew he was a freak, just like his parents, we didn't want that infecting you. Just like his parents, he was abnormal, there was no way he could be a sibling to you. I mean, look at where we are now, your family split up because of him and his freakishness, it's his fault"

"No Dad, it is your fault! You decided to treat Harry badly, you told mum she could have nothing to do with her family, when she decided she wanted to. She has never even seen her sister's grave because of you! Mum has realised Harry is the only part of the Evans family left and needs to be able to see him. We tried to explain all this to you, ever since we got back from Derbyshire. We gave you a chance to change, to see what we could see, but you are too pig headed to see anything except your own petty prejudices, your view of normal, don't you get it, there is no such thing as normal. You think you can bully everyone else to get your own way, including me and mum as soon as we disagreed with you, you couldn't see that I lost my automatic loyalty as soon as I saw that. Once I was of age and working, I only stayed here for mum's sake, to protect her from you. Harry has forgiven us for what we did to him, you can't even see the cruelty we all inflicted on him. I am just glad he is generous enough to allow us to wipe the slate clean, to actually be a family. Remember a couple of years ago when Harry's headmaster came to collect him, he told us a few things. Well, Professor Dumbledore was right you nearly made me like you, through treating Harry like filth and spoiling me, you damaged me too. Thankfully, it wasn't too late for me to change and see the mistakes I was making. Bullying others didn't get me respect, that is earned not forced, I can see that now, despite you, not because of you. You should have been teaching me, not encouraging me to behave badly towards others. Harry and his wife have welcomed us into their home, despite our history, because he knows that we have changed, that I have grown up. We are at the start of a new life, mum has a job to go to in September, I start mine in the next day or two as well. Best of all, we have our freedom, freedom to be who we want to be."

"But Dudley, they are good for nothing freaks, weirdos" His father blustered.

Dudley shook his head and tried once more, had he been the old Dudley, then he wasn't sure he would be bothered, but despite everything, this man was his father, so the new Dudley had to give him the chance to do the right thing, no matter how long a shot that might be. "Guess what dad, they aren't the freaks, even in this world you are, in your words, abnormal, do you really think the way we treated Harry is right, is the correct way to treat anyone, let alone a child? There are not many who would agree with you, not even in this street or town. I feel sorry for you dad, you had the chance to have two sons, you blew it through your own narrow mindedness. You had a chance to allow what, I now know, is simply a special talent to flourish. You tried to destroy it, violently simply because you were scared of anything different. You really cannot see that we are all different, can you and that is why you have lost us. You had the chance to broaden your view, you're too narrow minded to see it. You had a wife and a son that simply asked that they be allowed to see all their family, yet that was too much for you. You wouldn't let them and this is the result, you have lost us dad, through your own stupidity you have lost that."

"Utter rubbish! I haven't lost you or your mother." Vernon spluttered, dropping any hint of trying to placate his son, his temper showing again in frustration. "I give it a week before you come crawling back. Then we shall see who is narrow minded boy. Marge was right, the runt and his weirdo friends have brainwashed you. If you think their sort are normal it's the only explanation. I have never been anything, but generous to you and your mother, rescuing her from that sister of hers, tolerating the boy at her insistence, can't you see I have done nothing to harm either of you."

"You tried to hit her dad, you would have, if I hadn't hit you first to prevent it." He shouted, then turned to Alphonse and calmly said. "I can't get through to him, let's get this over with."

Alphonse nodded. "Whenever you are ready Dudley, I suggest you and Harry start upstairs. We'll keep an eye on these two."

"You aren't taking a thing without my permission boy, I want Petunia here too." Vernon moved and tried to block the doorway.

"Oh Uncle, stop being silly, you can't stop us and Aunt will not come here." Harry sighed "At the moment she never wants to see you again if she can help it. Now, please get out of the way, the sooner we're done the sooner we are out of this house."

"You don't scare me boy, this fantasy about my family will stop here and now. I don't know what you have done to them, but you will fix it right now." Vernon growled.

Harry shook his head sadly. "Dudley, do you want to carry on with this?"

"Yes Harry, mum and I need our things." His cousin replied just as sadly.

"Very well. Vernon, out of our way, or I will move you."

Vernon snorted derisively, "I'd like to see you try, Boy"

Harry sighed, then wandlessly, he cast the spell and waved his hand. To his own and especially his sister's amazement, Vernon found himself floating a few inches off the floor, around Harry back into the room. He landed gently. "I don't want to hurt you Uncle, unless you make it necessary." His nephew said bluntly. "Now, Alphonse here has some papers for you, I suggest you sit down and read them." Harry told him, then turning, he and Dudley went up the stairs.

Alphonse then started showing Vernon the various legal papers Petunia had signed, including notice that she intended to file for divorce.

Upstairs Dudley looked at Harry "Well, that went about as well as expected."

"You did well Dud, I'm proud of you, it can't have been easy standing up to him like that. I'm just sorry he wouldn't listen to you and respect those choices." He reassured his cousin. "We aren't out of the woods yet though. We still have to get out of here in one piece, after we have cast the spell that ensures they don't reveal what they know of our world. Right let's get this done, pass me the list, we'll do this the quick way."

Dudley looked on in amazement as Harry summoned each object in turn, both wandlessly and silently. He conjured trunks to put everything in, then levitated them down to the hall once they were full. Harry took one last look in his old room, which apart from furniture, was now bare, and then with the task complete, they went back downstairs and repeated the procedure for those rooms. Marge was frozen in fear to her seat, while usually inanimate objects casually floated past her, apparently responding to the actions of the boy.

Vernon insisted on checking the contents of the trunks against a copy of the list he had been given, before they were taken anywhere. He argued about several of the items, Marge silently prodding him in encouragement, but the Aurors were having none of it. If it was on the list it was going if he wanted to dispute it later then he would need to do so through his solicitor, they would follow the list as ordered by the Ministry. Vernon then tried to break some of the objects, but a simple Reparo charm soon fixed them, much to Vernon's frustration. As soon as he had checked a trunk, Harry sent it to Grimmauld place, after he had sent two, Vernon objected loudly. "Boy! You will stop that unnaturalness in this house, you can take those out the normal way or not at all."

"This is the normal way for us, Uncle." Harry said firmly.

"I mean normal for us, for normal people boy, it's bad enough having you filth here without you doing that."

"Don't worry father, after today you won't need to worry about people doing magic in this house." Dudley sighed.

"I don't know what they have done to you, Dudley, or your mum, but if you go now and fetch her, I will forgive you both for all this."

"Forgive us, for what?" Dudley retorted angrily.

"Leaving me, of course!" Vernon said incredulously. "Not to mention bringing all this on us."

"Dad. Get it through your skull, no matter what nonsense you think, it is you who should be begging forgiveness from us! If you were half the man you think you are, you would know that." Dudley shouted.

Marge grabbed Dudley and shook him as if he were a dog she was chastising. "How dare you speak to your father like that, if you were in your right mind you would never behave like this, now snap out of it!" She screamed in his face.

Harry pointed his wand at her, just as Vernon lunged at him and knocked him to the ground. "You will undo whatever you have done to my son, boy and tell me where my wife is you freak." Vernon spat, raising his fist.

Suddenly, Vernon found himself floating up to hover near the ceiling next to his sister, looking down at Harry, who simply stood up having caught his breath from the impact. He looked round to see two Aurors putting their wands back in their robes, they shrugged at him.

"Well, we tried it the nice way, what shall we do with them now?" One the Aurors smiled as Vernon bellowed in rage swinging his arms to try and grab Harry who was just out of reach. Marge simply seemed frozen in fear, ashen faced and wide eyed as she hovered above them.

"Let's get the rest of this stuff home then do what we have to, I can't be bothered with these two worthless lumps anymore." Said Harry, mentally sending reassurance to Ginny who he knew had felt his fear as Vernon had attacked and was about to Apparate to him with an anxious Maria to help.

Dudley nodded briefly. "Agreed!" he added sadly. So Harry sent the remaining trunks to Grimmauld Place. Once the trunks were gone, he floated Vernon and Marge to the sitting room, and put them into chairs, binding them so they could not attack again.

Dudley looked at his father. "Well, thank God I am not like you. A pathetic bully, who wants to hit women. Goodbye father, I hope you soon realise what you are, though I doubt it. I pity you for what you have lost through your own actions, I hope that you realise what you have become before it is too late. One day I may come and see you, you are my father after all, when that day comes then perhaps you will be prepared to accept what I have become."

His father looked at him, realising he had lost his son's unquestioning loyalty forever, but feeling no remorse, he looked at Dudley with undisguised disgust and disappointment. "As far as I am concerned you are no longer a son of mine!"

Dudley nodded sadly. "Fine! If that's what you want, it's your loss, not mine."

Harry watched as Dudley turned away from his father and put a hand on his cousin's shoulder. "You OK, Dud?"

"Yes Harry," Dudley sighed. "I think I'm done trying with him, he's a lost cause. I'm just sorry I wasted my life trying to be like him."

"Don't live in the past Dudley, you are no longer the person you once were. Perhaps some people can't let themselves change as you have, I am glad you had the strength to, and I respect you for that, Dud."

Alphonse turned to them. "This won't take a minute, then we'll see you off. Oh and Dudley, well done son, you have earned my respect too, you have coped well. If you were a wizard, I would want you on my team."

Dudley nodded his thanks and the two cousins left the room to wait in the hall while the Aurors set to work casting the charms to prevent either muggle revealing what they knew of magic, then they all left the house and headed back to the park. As they passed, they noticed a For Sale notice board had been erected outside Mrs. Figg's house.

Dudley was depressed as they walked back to the end of the street, where Alphonse turned and released the two muggles from their bonds, but not from the timed release sticking charms he had placed on them. It would be another ten minutes before they could leave their seats. Then, he caught up with his team and fell in to walk next to a resigned looking Dudley.

"Don't worry Dudley, he's a lot of bluster today, but in the end he will be alright." He said to the young man.

"I know, I just hoped he would have changed, even a little a bit, perhaps realised what he had done, what an idiot he's been or even what he has lost, but there was nothing."

"Sadly, some people never accept responsibility for what they have done, I'm afraid your dad's one of those people. You showed great character back there, lad, I meant what I said about you back there. Even without magic you will go far in our world, young man, not just because you're Harry's cousin either, but because of the person you have become."

"I hope so, it's all rather scary at the moment." Dudley smiled weakly.

"Yes I guess it is, but you have Harry, the Weasleys, and from what I hear, young Maria with you already, they'll look after you. I am a bit worried though, you and your mother are at a disadvantage, one that could be dangerous for you both. If you don't mind Dudley, I am going to find out if there is anything you can do to help protect yourself magically, especially for when Harry and Ginny are back at Hogwarts."

"Thanks, but I don't know magic, it isn't in me, at least I've never shown any sign of it."

"I know son, but there are things that can be done anyway." Alphonse told him "I need to talk to Maria's dad actually, as he's an Unspeakable."

"A what?" Dudley asked incredulously.

"Oh sorry, I forgot you didn't know. I'm not being rude about him, he works in the department of mysteries, we call them Unspeakables, because they can't talk about a lot of their work you see, but he'll help if he can and so will I, young man."

They talked amiably until they had reached the park, which was deserted now that the sun was beginning to set and the light was fading, the red sky indicating the next day would be just as seasonable as this one had been. Harry and Dudley said goodbye to the Aurors, then Apparated home, watched by the team, who departed shortly after them, unnoticed by the council worker who had arrived to lock the gates and close the park for the night.

* * *

They arrived in the back garden of Grimmauld Place as planned and were immediately flung to their backs as Ginny and Maria ran to hug them.

"Are you all right love? I was starting to get a bit worried, especially when Ginny sensed Harry's fear." Maria asked through tears as she released Dudley and he got up again.

"I'm fine love. Dad made a surprise attack on Harry, knocking him over, but the Aurors dealt with that." He kissed her, while Ginny let Harry up and they walked towards the house where Petunia was waiting in the doorway. Harry looked up at Petunia.

"Marge was there." He told her.

"Oh, I bet she was pleasant! Trust him to go running to her." Petunia sighed.

Dudley told them what had happened, while they made their way to the lounge, where Kreacher had put some pre-dinner drinks ready for them

Dudley looked round once he had sat down. Not seeing the trunks, he asked "Did everything arrive?"

"Yes Dud, don't worry, they arrived no problem. Kreacher has put the trunks upstairs, your mum checked them as they arrived. You can sort them out tomorrow, dinner is soon anyway." Ginny said. "By the way, Maria, are you staying tonight? You are more than welcome, there's plenty of room."

"Yes I will, if that's all right, but I had better let Mum and Dad know." Maria suddenly thought of something. "Oh Dudley, this morning dad said you could spend this weekend at ours if you like. We can go to the match from there, meet the others at the pitch."

"Sounds great to me, give me chance to get to know them as well as spend time with you." Said Dudley.

"Use the Floo to contact them Maria," Ginny offered. "Talking of the match, the tickets should be here tomorrow."

* * *

 **10th Century.**

Styr of Jorvik, the King of Northumbria, looked out from his Palace over his capital, reflecting on the activity below. He had just completed the day's petitions, granting favours for his supporters, arbitrating on disputes between neighbours and hearing the pleadings of the Lords of the country for assistance. The sounds of the city, overwhelming in the relative silence of the palace, flooded up to the window where he stood in his grand home. Although built by the Romans in ancient time, just outside the defensive wall they had built, it was still a grand, if strange, building, certainly worthy of being the home of a King. Although incomplete, many of the walls still bore the decoration and paint that complimented the floors of coloured tiles, some depicting naked men and women, or deities while others were just patterns. These floors had partly collapsed in some rooms, replaced with wooden planks across the piles of tiles that supported them a couple of feet above the ground. The roof was a mixture of surviving tiles and thatch, but despite the ravages of time, the two story complex and yard made an impressive place to receive guests and intimidate those brought for judgement. There were few larger buildings occupied in the city, the Cathedral and the monastery complex beside it being one, the adjacent Archbishops Palace being another, they were within the Roman walls and those men of the past, who it seemed must have been giants to build such things, had also built the buildings now used for those purposes.

Styr was pleased with himself, confident he was doing enough so that when the time came, he would be the one chosen by the church. His weak squib brother, who had been King, had been dead for five years now, along with his Norse puppet masters and in those years he had done Archbishop Hrothweard's bidding. His brother had tried to appease the Northmen during his reign, he had kept the pagans peaceful at a price that had been paid by the church. He had been too weak to impose the same tax that was to be paid to the church on the pagans that the Christians were required to pay. Styr had used that as his opportunity to gain a foothold with the Archbishop, who had supported his coup, providing many of the men who had ensured his brother's supporters were dealt with. Trade in the City had fallen, after he had taken the throne, at least at first, word having spread of the violent take over, via the sea captains that had fled as his and the churches army had struck. Such a move often opened a country to infighting and civil war, powerful earls fighting over the throne, creating instability. Trade with the Saxon south, first with Mercia, then East Anglia and Wessex had soon increased again, now even the Norse ships were returning, once again bringing the trade and wealth of the world into the crowded city.

Through the taxes he had increased, on the Archbishops instructions, both he and the church were growing wealthier, any dissenters he had arbitrarily judged to be abominations in the eyes of the church. They had been killed, or fled at the mere suggestion of the charge being made against them. Some, he knew, were like him, magical. He had revealed their secret to the church, in the person of the Archbishop, simply in order to protect his own. Some had tried to gain his protection knowing he was one of their kind, but he had instead condemned them without a second thought or regret, their removal and death being necessary so he would not be undermined by them. The more he killed, in growingly imaginative ways, the more the Archbishop and therefore the church, were pleased, and the more favoured he was. Where there were disputes between land owners, he ruled on the case, ensuring loyalty from others by knowing where the loyalties of those in conflict lay. None could disagree with his adjudication though the loser was also instructed, often painfully, to adjust the error of questioning his position above them.

He was the King of Northumbria, powerful and wealthy, life for him was good. He worked hard to ensure that it stayed that way, but the church believed in Alfred's dream, that there should be only one King over all of England. The church was rich, the church was powerful and it was they who would make that one King, they who would decide in the end. There were two Kings in England, Styr himself and another in Wessex, who controlled Mercia and East Anglia, which meant that King was wealthier and commanded more men. A war with Wessex was out of the question, but even if it were possible that his army could defeat the one in the south, he would still need the support of the church to rule all England. This meant he had to do their bidding, at least for now, once they made him that King, he would deal with the Church, sealing his place. His lust for power meant he wanted to be that King, to do that he needed the blessing of the church and he would do anything to get it. Jorvik's archbishop was second only to the one at Cantwaraburh in Wessex, making the King of that country and of theoretical equal importance. He knew that because of the wealth and men his rival could command, could give to the church, it was he who was more powerful politically. That King could also claim to be a direct descendant of Alfred, not just a usurper, so it was that King that was the favoured one in the eyes of the Christians, a man of piety whose chief councillors were priests.

Styr knew that he needed something to tip that balance in his favour, something to prove he was the better candidate for the church. He knew his rival need do nothing to prove himself further, but he would have to prove beyond doubt that he was the one Alfred would have chosen, even above his own blood, to take his dream to its conclusion. He needed one great achievement, just as Alfred had, with his victory over the Vikings from his position of despair, when all that was left of his Kingdom had been a few square miles of marsh. It had been from that desperate position that Alfred had mounted a counter attack and retaken his country in efficiently short order when he had mustered his army and Fyrd at Egbert's Stone where the Danes had been defeated. It had been a momentous victory, so King Styr needed an event of similar renown to make his name, to swing the church's backing away from the great King's descendant. That of course meant he needed a more powerful enemy than the north men had been for Alfred, or rather, an enemy of the church of that stature, but who? Only his own kind was hated by the church as much as the pagan invaders had been and he knew they could be powerful, they could be the ideal solution. The problem was he knew that they were spread thinly throughout the country, hardly communicating with each other. He didn't know how many there were, not even in Northumbria and those from around Jorvik that he had not already betrayed, had fled for their own safety, he knew not where to. Besides, it was hardly likely they would have gathered in one or two places where they could easily be found, more likely individual households of them would be hidden amongst the muggles, the only wizards for miles around. They had few ways of finding each other, let alone communicating sufficiently to coordinate and cooperate in any way, so they had hidden amongst the majority, it was both a strength and a weakness. To round them up in sufficient numbers so they could at least be a convincing suggestion of a threat to the Church for his purposes would take time, too much time, even if he were sure he could identify where they hid. No, his own kind could not provide the answer he needed, unless something had drastically changed about them, but if not them, then who could provide him an easy target, yet be seen as a major threat to the church at least?

* * *

The students gathered on the grass outside the main doors of the vast new castle, dressed in their finest clothes and richest jewellery, weapons and wands gleaming at their belts. Only Utred amongst them carried his own sword, the Creaftas and others carried ones from the school's armoury, though no other wore chain mail armour, as he did. He had also donned golden arm rings from his horde and a richly decorated helmet, in common with his fellow students of Gryffindor's house, he also wore the red cloak trimmed with yellow of their mentor. The gathering of students in their finery looked to him like the gatherings of a Lord and his Huscarls his father had attended at the palace at Jorvik for the start of the Kings court each year. He soon found his friends as they awaited the four founders' arrival on the steps of the castle, just visible in the dusk were four objects, placed carefully on the stones in front of the doors. None of the students knew what they were for, but suspected they would be the focus of a ritual of some sort.

The sun finally sank below the horizon, casting the lake, long houses and the newly built castle into darkness, the shadow of smoke drifting from the village masking some of the stars visible in that direction. The moon rose over the mountains, casting a subdued light over the scene. Torches flared alight near the four old founders' houses, then more burst into life, marking a quintet of paths from each founders house, between the groups apprentices, across the grass, up to the steps leading to the castle doors. All eyes turned to the huts that had been their homes until today, waiting expectantly for what they knew was about to happen. The students' belongings had already been moved from the long houses into their new quarters, along with other artefacts that had been in them. The founders emerged from their respective house simultaneously, dressed in their finery and walked symbolically along the lines of torches, which extinguished themselves behind them as they walked, leaving their individual Halls for the last time. The students closed the paths behind the founders as attention and the four houses symbolically and literally transferred to their permanent home in the castle.

The two men and two women reached the entrance simultaneously and climbed the steps to the main door, where they turned to face the crowd of their collective apprentices; each one was stood next to one of the objects that awaited them, the one they had arranged to be there. Helga Hufflepuff was next to a very large, highly polished cattle horn, Rowena Ravenclaw beside a shiny metal eagle shaped door knocker. Salazar Slytherin stood by a large carved stone serpent head and Godric Gryffindor was next to his own shield which bore his symbol. Each tapped their wands on the their chosen object, which began to glow, they then began intricate wand movements over the objects before beginning to circle them, continuing to cast complex spells, as ribbons of light appeared between the items, then faded only to be replaced by another. Each ribbon glowed then faded, until the last one shone with a golden brilliance that crackled before fading and the objects glowed with a pulsing light, eventually fading completely. This task complete, the founders stood in the silence of the crowd as if waiting, there was no noise at all, no murmurs from the crowd, no bird song, even the water in the lake and the wind itself was still. It seemed as if even the elements and Gods were stilled in anticipation. Minutes passed and still no noise, nothing at all changed. The students dared not speak for fear of destroying the ceremony that was planned, or disturbing the complex magic that had been woven. Then it began!

A barely discernible, but constant and growing rumble began, as if it were the sound of a great army were moving in the distance. If it were an army Utred thought, then they were heading this way. The founders' heads turned towards the direction of the noise and the students looked in the same direction, as movement could be seen in the trees of the forest. Sending birds that had not long settled to roost in the branches back into the air in fright, sound was the soft foot and hoof fall of the magical creatures that had settled there, led by the Centaurs and Unicorns. They emerged from the trees in a line and slowly made their way towards the crowd. The herd was vast and marched in stately manner led by six bright silver unicorns and a group of Centaurs gently prodding a wild boar forward, shepherding it at spear point. The lead group continued, as those following stopped behind the students, who cleared a path towards the steps for their passage, the boar squealing in fear as it was forced between the crowd towards the steps. The group of magical creatures from the forest reached the steps just as another sound began, this time from behind the students, it was the noise of rushing water. The surface of the lake began to boil, sending waves, which were quite large for the lake crashing on the shoreline. Hundreds of heads began to appear on the surface and move closer to the edge. The Mermaids, Grindylows, and other magical creatures that lived in the lake had arrived; they began to move, slowly, towards the bank closest to the entrance of the castle.

Ulf and Eric moved towards the Centaurs, they passed between their horse-like bodies carrying a rope made of linen. They quickly tied the boars legs, the centaurs helping to keep the struggling animal still while they did it once it was immobile they lifted it and gently laid it before the steps. The unicorns and Centaurs then swiftly moved to the side of the steps, and Nymphs leading four Hippogriffs came forward and built a pyre. Once done, the populace of the forest moved to form a line around the students, down to the lake where its inhabitants were now lined along the shore. A very large, live Carp was lifted out of the water and was passed from the Mermaids to the nearest Centaur, who struggled to hold the wet, wriggling fish. His neighbour moved to help, but even with them both carrying it and with the strength of their species, they struggled under the weight of the struggling fish as they bore it up to the steps. When laid next to the boar, they were clearly almost the same size as each other, the two centaurs returned to their positions with their fellows. All attention was now back to the steps up to the main doors, where the four founders were still stood next to the artefacts. Erik and Ulf drew their swords and held them in readiness over the two sacrifices, on the steps, the blades shining in the light from the flames of the torches, seeming to glow bright with a light of their own as they were held aloft.

All was ready, and Ravenclaw stepped forward, her hands raised in front of her, silence fell and all could hear her words. "The blood of the gifts of our brethren who dwell in the forest, the lake, the grounds and the sky will bind the protections to this place as it soaks into this earth. The flesh of these offerings will strengthen the wards as it is turned to ashes and given to the soil. This sacrifice ensures the magical security will spread from this castle to all its land and water preventing the uninvited from attacking this place and taking it from us." She intoned. "The spells on the founders objects will form the key to the wards, each imbued with our essence and the same charms to increase the strength by four, for whilst all four are in place no wizard or magic can harm this place or those that dwell in it. The sacrifice of these two gifts completes the charms and gives them the strength to last for many generations to the ends of the world."

Ravenclaw's words complete, she fell to her knees, as did the four founders and students. The creatures bowed their heads as the swords of Erik and Ulf fell, killing the fish and boar, allowing the blood to spill onto the ground, where it soaked into the earth.

Slytherin's voice was then heard, "We thank the Sacrificed for their blood, flesh and spirits. Know your lives in this world were given for a worthy purpose and were not needlessly taken."

The whole assembly, still bowing, repeated his words, knowing the ritual was vital for their own protection. They remained in this position, until the four objects began to glow and ribbons shot from the ground to each of them. This was the signal that the last of the blood had been spilled, so all rose to stand upright in the new light cast by the magical link and wards that were being formed. Ulf and Erik lifted each carcass aside and the founders excavated a pit next to the patch of blood. Some of the centaurs brought wood forward and built a large pyre over the pit, the top was covered with leaves, then the bodies of the fish and boar were lifted onto it, then covered with a particular combination of herbs, vegetables, and flowers. A flurry of flaming arrows flew over the students, not a single arrow missed its target in the base of the pyre, and soon the flames rose as tall as the castle entrance itself. Loud cheering echoed through the valley, as the crowd vocally sent the spirits of the sacrifice to the heavens on the smoke in triumph,

Hufflepuff opened the doors of the castle slowly, revealing a dark interior. The light from the flaming torches and pyre illuminated the steps, but did not penetrate the interior at all. The gathered inhabitants of Hogwarts fell silent as Gryffindor raised his hand.

"Apprentices, my friends and colleagues, today sees the culmination of a dream. The start of a new chapter for Wizard kind, one that has taken a long time to fulfil. Merlin, who taught me what we teach here, wished he could achieve this in his lifetime. It was his greatest wish to create a school to train all witches and wizards in this country, in safety from any persecution. He fore saw a time when our kind would not be welcome amongst our fellows without the ability, he knew we would need to hide and saw the dangers to us in that. He saw that we could become isolated as individuals, he also knew that not all who had Magical ability received the training needed and some suffered greatly as a result. He dreamed of creating a place where all Witches and Wizards could be safe, could be trained in controlling their abilities as well as live and build a community. When Merlin left us, I found three others who desired to educate the young to use their natural ability, to fulfil that dream here in this remote place of safety, far from the growing fear of us from the muggle world. For five years we have gathered together as many as we could find and have taken you in as our apprentices, living in the buildings we could erect quickly. Today our permanent home will be completed, albeit with certain additions to the original plan we had, courtesy of a certain group of popular students." The founder smiled fondly towards the Creaftas before continuing. "I fully expect to find that we haven't found all the modifications that have been added by them just yet, but suspect we might before long, be assured I am confident that none will be intended to cause anyone permanent harm, if any at all. However as the founders of the school, we have one final responsibility to complete our castle. The four objects before us have been charmed, to add our magical essence and linked both magically and through the sacrifices now complete, to add protection to the very stones, grounds and bedrock of this place, permanently. Once in position they will reside in the rooms that comprise our houses within the castle, fulfilling our pledge to protect those who reside within these walls and grounds. They will also be a visible reminder of our values and pledge, a symbol intended to be visible for so long as the school stands and those within it act legally, morally, as well as within the aims of the school."

As he finished all four founders raised their wands, the artefacts they had charmed earlier rose, hovered momentarily, then flew through the doors. Instantly the torches in the entrance hall ignited, illuminating the room brightly, the light spilling through the doorway. Those outside watched as the windows of the school burst into light in turn, as the artefacts flew through the corridors and up the stairways, past classrooms and cupboards until every window was illuminated and with the objects in place, the building appeared to grow before them as more windows glowed with flickering light from torches within. Suddenly when all torches were lit the entire building glowed with a magical aura which expanded past the crowd to the boundaries of the grounds then faded slowly, as the protective charms were activated. A loud cheer rose from the crowd, some blew horns as they watched the light fade. Then the celebration started, it would last until all flames on the pyre had died down and it was just embers, then they would enter the castles Great Hall for a feast.

For the next two hours, music played, beer flowed, students danced and revelled with each other as well as with the magical creatures on the land, some even entered the lake to celebrate with the mermaids, whilst the Unicorns watched and the Hippogriffs flew performing an intricate ballet in the sky. Not to be out done the Grindylows mimicked the flying antics in the water, this of course turned into a competition between the two species, one that no one afterwards could tell who had won, but it hardly seemed to matter spirits were high and celebratory. Utred and the Creaftas celebrated along with their girlfriends and found themselves near the pyre as the last of the flames died down and a horn sounded, signalling the time for the feast was upon them.

As the noise died down the four founders stepped forward, Hufflepuff called. "Would our staff enter the castle and make their way to the Great Hall to take their seats at the top table."

The other teachers, with Erik and Ulf, walked in, followed by a phalanx of house elves. Then one by one, starting with Gryffindor, the four called their houses forward and led their students in to their new home. Darkness filled the grounds, apart from the glow of the pyre, the guests from the lake sank into its waters and those from the forest returned to its shelter, they would celebrate their own way, leaving the humans to settle into their new home in the way only they could.

All of Gryffindor's students sat at the table set aside for his students, in the hall beneath the ceiling created by the Creaftas, which showed the stars in the clear night sky reflecting the actual sky outside. They watched as each founder led their students to their table, before the four masters took their seats in the centre of the top table. Once all were seated, golden plates appeared unannounced on the tables in front of them, each student retrieving their own knife from the pouch on their belt as spoons, platters and dishes of food appeared in front of them. The noise level rose as conversations started and the feast began.

Utred looked round the Hall as he ate, remembering the work to construct the building. This part of the castle had been the last to be constructed and was the centre piece public room of the complex building, the rest being for the castle's residents and accompanied guests only. The grandeur of the Hall was enhanced by the flickering flames in the torches on their brackets in the walls and hundreds of floating candles above the walkways between the tables. The light reflected from the windows which were filled with glass, a rare and expensive material in the Muggle world, he remembered his mother had a few glass beads, which all who saw them had been in awe of and there had been some panes of glass in a few of the Roman buildings in Jorvik, but he had never seen so much as they had added to the windows in this Castle. Here they had simply transfigured sand from the lake into the window panes, using magic, which would have amazed muggles, not just the way it was produced, but because of the sheer amount of the rare material used on the School. His eyes glanced down the Gryffindor table until they came to rest on his group, sat together with their girlfriends, all chatting happily.

Tigelwotta and the pretty, red haired great granddaughter of Merlin himself, Hilde Peverill were sat close together sharing a joke. She was a powerful witch three years his junior, they had only recently become a couple, but were well suited. Skorri and Lifa, younger sister of the Wesele twins, meanwhile, had been inseparable since she had arrived at the school two years ago, she was a mirror of his character. The Wesele twins had been captured last year by two friends a year below them, Leoforwic by a long haired blonde beauty called Godiva and Egil by a dark haired, dark eyed seer called Tofa. Utred felt his hand captured by the figure sitting next to him, Frayja, older sister of Skorri, she had arrived at Hogwarts at the same time as her brother. Frayja's touch was always reassuring though she was a fierce fighter in both magical and muggle styles. In fact, all the Creaftas women were, as a group they were the most skilled in the school and had each even beaten all four founders more than once, duelling in both disciplines. All the girls had decided to wear their sleeves long, and cover their heads in public, like married women, even Hilde. Their men accepted this sign to all that they were taken, permanently, although weddings were yet to take place and allowed the girls to wear the wealth they owned that would be usually due to their wives, confirming the message.

The fires burned in the grates as the students ate the sumptuous feast, Erik's hunt had been successful, going by the amount of boar, venison, pheasant, partridge, duck, goose and even swan that was available in the various courses that kept appearing on the tables. There was, of course, a plentiful supply of Oysters and shell fish throughout the meal, it was a memorable feast to mark the opening. Entertainment was provided by dancing nymphs who floated amongst the tables, and flew gracefully beneath the ceiling which showed a cloudless star filled sky, and the occasional Thestral flying over the roof on their nightly hunt. The students conversed during the feast, about how their lives might change now the castle was complete, or even about plans for life after they finished school. With news still reaching them of more Wizarding deaths in the outside world, many wondered if they would ever be safe in their home towns again.

Utred felt satisfied, he had been here five years, worked hard and played hard, he had even become known to the rulers of the land of the Scots and Picts, this place had become his home. He had found his soul mate here in Frayja, they had already planned to marry and Godric had given his blessing as their master. They could feel each other's love for each other now, words were unnecessary between them, so life could not be better. They sat close to each other as first a story teller told tales of glorious battles and news from the south, he was followed by a minstrel, both of them performed after the meal was finished.

* * *

Much later, with the celebrations over, they made their way to Gryffindor's house in a tower of the school, he was relaxed, safe in the security the school and his fellows offered him, though he had not forgotten his oath on the day he discovered his parents' death. Yet, the feeling that there was plenty of time to fulfil his vow of vengeance both nagged his conscience and also steeled his resolve to be patient, to bide his time. He was confident that one day, the opportunity would come for him to fulfil his oath, for now though he was here and had men, so there was time for all that later. Today was for celebration, tomorrow? Well tomorrow, the Creaftas biggest prank in the building would activate, it had been planned and installed over a very long period, though the runes only activated yesterday to time it's initiation, but all had lain undetected for now and once started could not be stopped. They reached the new Gryffindor Common room and entered. It was a large space with stairs leading from it to the dormitories. Above the mantelpiece was a large picture of a large woman, above her was the charmed shield, now set high up, in a depression in the wall edged with stone that formed a perfect circle around it.

"Welcome to your new house, my son's house." The portrait smiled. "I will be here to keep an eye and lend a sympathetic ear should you need it. Please do not call me Mrs. Gryffindor, that was my Mother in law and if you take my advice, you really wouldn't want to go there. You may either call me mum, or by my favourite name that I was called in life, I am the Fat Lady."

Utred smiled, Godric had not told them of this, he now had a way of knowing what was going on in his house even when not here. His master had pranked them, though not as well as what was to come.

* * *

The first rays of the sun lanced over the city, the light attempting to cut through the thick pall of smoke rising from the host of thatched roofs of the houses within the walls that surrounded it. The streets were thick with mud and filth from discarded rotting rubbish, most of the buildings were wooden, though some older stone buildings survived. The citizenry were rising, a few had already ventured to either use the cesspit in the yards behind the houses, or to tip slops in the area where the family pig was kept. Soon the day's business would begin, each householder setting up a stall at the front of their house, selling all manner of goods, from shoes to jewellery, items made of gold and silver, or bone, horn and antler. Wood turners started working on their pole lathes and the noise of a busy city would rise in the shadow of the new wooden cathedral, near the largest surviving Roman built house, the Kings palace. The palace had once been a magnificent city villa, now parts had crumbled and been replaced with wood, in common with the city walls, which had been extended with wooden palisades, the tall stone built ancient wall cutting the City in two. The cathedral was built on the site of the most important Roman building within their defences, whilst the palace was just outside the gate, in the other half of the city, though with a direct, wide street between. It was in this time, as the city began to awake and the river defences drop to allow ships to enter or leave, that a strange figure suddenly appeared in the courtyard of the palace.

The King was just waking, as he heard the distinctive pop of someone arriving by apparition. This was unusual, few of his own kind had the ability to get past his wards in such a manner, so he lay wondering which of them it could be and what reason they could have for such urgency. After a few moments a servant knocked on his bed chamber door and entered on his command.

"My Lord," The servant began. "There is a man to see you, he says he is your old master and demands the presence of yourself and Thorfin."

The King's mind snapped into full wakefulness. So, at last the time has come, he has come to take my son to be trained by him as he promised, he thought. "Have him await me in my hall, do not disturb my son." He commanded.

The slave nodded and left, the King picked up his wand, and with a quick flick of it he was dressed, smirking as he thought of what the Archbishop would have said had he seen it. Not disturbing his wife, he left the bedchamber and walked through the corridor in the old Roman building to his family hall. The painted plaster on the walls was faded and the images in the panels were barely visible though the borders and base colours still survived, but many of the statues and most of the mosaic floors the ancients had laid were still in place in most rooms, small tiles creating pictures and patterns under foot. Such was the case in the corridor and in his room, amongst others making the house the most impressive in the City.

He had been apprenticed to the man who was awaiting him, as a boy, unlike his squib brother and knew he was an extremely skilled wizard, who had earned his loyalty at the time. He may betray his own kind, but not this man, though he was keenly aware of the danger the timing of his master's arrival could cause. He had to be careful, his master was a shrewd man and would detect deception instantly unless he took precautions, though the danger was not just from this direction. If his master's sudden appearance be reported to Hrothweard, then his plans to rule England would be at an end, hell, his rule of Northumbria would be over. If the King allowed his son to go with this man now, the disappearance would have to be explained to the church, again, this would be disastrous to his position and plans, this would need careful handling. He could not deny his son apprenticeship without betraying his mentor, but nor could he allow him to take the boy without losing everything, which he could lose anyway by meeting with him, instead of imprisoning him, which he certainly could not do. The King had been his only apprentice all those years ago, and he had been taught Legilimency and Occlumency early in his training. He erected his shields as he entered the room. The skills may be useful in discovering hidden agendas, but he dare not reveal what he had done to others to this man.

His mentor stood in the middle of the room with his back towards the door the King entered from, but turned as he heard the sound of leather padding on tile.

"Greetings, your Majesty." The tall wizard stated slickly.

"Salazar, it is good to see you again." The King acknowledged, feeling his master prodding his shields. He allowed him to see some benign thoughts.

"As it is you, my apprentice. I see life co-existing with muggles agrees with you, no trouble from the Christians, I trust." Slytherin withdrew from his apprentices mind.

"Nothing I can't handle Salazar, the Archbishop here is powerful, and so has his uses." He smiled, bravado should cover this he thought. "I can manipulate him, he has no idea what I am, he is quite amenable to my rule, it has made him wealthy."

"I can imagine that will be necessary, especially for a man with the ambition to rule more than Northumbria. Never more so than now, with so many of our kind fearful of being put to death."

The King knew better than to show his discomfort, how much did this wily old wizard know? "What news do you bring my master?" He tried to deflect the conversation, a fact that Slytherin noted.

"Times are difficult for us, but we take what measures are necessary to preserve the bloodlines that remain, though it is not easy of course." Salazar responded, knowing his former pupil was withholding information from him, not a good sign. "I see a time coming, when we must separate ourselves from the muggle world completely in order to survive."

"We?" The King was surprised, his master had been an isolated man when he had served under him. Even if his people had found a place to gather and hide, he couldn't see Slytherin joining them.

"Yes, we! Some of us have taken action to protect our kind. I now teach at a school, close to an almost all magical village. Four of us founded the school on Gryffindor's land in the north beyond the wall. In fact, I came to take your son there as my apprentice. I am the only one of the four to see we should restrict our teaching to pure bloods in these times, to protect our important families. So, I came ahead of any of the others to invite him to join my house."

So, he had joined with others. Would it be worth raising an army to take them? Surely it was but a few, so he could safely ignore them, but what if it wasn't? He had to know for certain, this could provide him a simple way to fulfil his ambition, but only if it were a significant group. "Yes, well, as to that, I expect you to take only him, if he is to continue my work, he needs particular attention." Styr commented, apparently idly.

"That he shall receive, under my tutelage, however he will also learn from others whilst being under my care."

King Styr thought for a moment, then spoke. "Very well, I shall send him once I am confident I can do so without arousing suspicion here. However, I would like to see this school of yours myself. I trust you, Salazar, but you say he will not just be taught by you."

"I shall arrange it if you wish." The older wizard replied, wondering what his most influential student was up to. News of his rule had reached Salazar's ears and even if it had not, his alarm bells were ringing about his former pupil. Perhaps if he got him alone to the school, he could find out more of the Kings intentions. "Though, we have just last night moved to our permanent building."

"No matter, it will be good to be with my own kind for a while." The King forced himself not to smile. This was his chance to assess their strength, and if they might provide the gift he needed for the church. One thing was certain, Thorfin would not be going to this school, at least not as apprentice to this man. Though, he would have to keep up appearances to avoid his mentor's suspicions, and he knew Slytherin well enough to know he had them.

Salazar's eyes narrowed slightly, could he trust his old pupil? He was up to something, he always was and he hoped this display of trust would be rewarded. "Come we shall endeavour to reassure you."

They Apparated instantly, Slytherin taking the King, before he could object, or call a guard to accompany them.

They appeared in front of a large stone castle overlooking a scene of great activity, as a large number of people were dismantling four great long houses on the field that led down to a lake. The King watched as some used wands to remove the planks, while others levitated them into the central, larger, fifth long house.

"The students are progressing well on the removal of our old accommodations" Salazar noted. "Your son will be joining us at the right time, we have just last night, moved to our permanent school which is far more comfortable, Styr."

The King grunted, observing the students at work. There were over 100 of them engaged in the activity, using their magic practically. A number of adults were helping, but he noted, two were not using wands, but were attacking the wood with hammers, muggle style. He concentrated his attention on them, were they muggles? If so what were they doing here?

A student approached the two as the King watched, he looked vaguely familiar. He could not hear what was said, but as the two turned to the student, he recognised them, Ulf and Erik. He had not seen them for years, not since his men had destroyed Tang. The muscular youth collected a number of planks and turned towards the central long house. The Kings eyes widened, as he thought he saw Lord Utred of Tang, who he had ordered killed when he took the throne. Then he realised, this man was far too young to be that Lord Utred, besides he had been a Muggle, but so were Ulf and Erik, they had been the Lord's men as well, so who was that man who looked so like the man who had burnt to death in his hall at Tang. Like a lightning bolt the realisation hit him, there was only one possibility, it could only be the son of his dead brother's chief advisor, Utred. He had survived, how was that possible? His body had been reported destroyed in Tang Hall, but no bones from the boy had been found, somehow he must have escaped, he could not have been elsewhere, his father would not have allowed that.

As King Styr watched, his nemesis' son disappear into the building. He knew he must stay out of sight, his survival now depended on it. The boy was now a fearsome warrior, as much as his father had been at that age at least, and if he had magic, as his presence here suggested, then he would be even more formidable. The whelp was sure to be out for revenge, his Norse honour would demand it. The last of Styr's doubts disappeared. He had to destroy this place, even if his mentor was in it, or his chances of keeping what he had and fulfilling his ambition were nil. As long as the boy did not know he was here, he was safe from attack, for this visit, but he dare not stay long. He turned and allowed Salazar to lead him into the castle, but as he toured, his mind was on other matters. His son would most certainly not be attending this school, he would be killed by Utred as soon as the runt learned who he was. Still, now he knew of the school it would be useful. The Archbishop was sure to reward him if he gave him this school and so many wizards, he would be King of the land for sure. He, a wizard, seen as a natural enemy of the church would fulfil the Christian King Alfred's dream. He began to take note of the schools defences, those that he could see, so he could form a plan to attack and capture this place.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

My thanks as always to Balthazar91 for his work as Beta for this story. Also thanks to those who have taken the trouble to review chapters so far. I will always do my best to reply via the messaging system where possible to reviews.

 **Historical notes:**

Cantwaraburh _= Canterbury_

There was indeed an Archbishop of York named Hrothweard in the 10th century, though he was in the post during the early 10th Century not the period of this story. The Archbishop of York remains second only to the Archbishop of Canterbury in the Church of England. The church of the 10th century of course was what the modern Roman Catholic denomination is rooted in, as were both Archbishops of the time, however the two posts were taken over by Henry the Eighths new church when he fell out with the pope and outlawed Roman Catholicism in the UK. They are in fact two of the oldest Christian posts in the UK. Both remain junior only to the reigning Monarch.

Horn was used for a great many purposes, it was the 10th century version of plastic in many respects, it even behaves in a similar manner when heated, becoming flexible until cooled. Horn is actually made of the same material as hair and finger nails, it grows around a bone which is part of an animal's skull (as opposed to antler which is actually a bone that grows outside the skin). On digs we rarely find Horn objects surviving from the period, unless it happens to have been buried in certain conditions, but we have some. Objects made from horn include, drinking Horns, goblets, mugs, simple musical instruments, even spoons (very small ones have been found with earwax preserved on them on occasion, no need to be an expert to know they weren't for eating with), and in later centuries, window glazing and lamps.

Sacrifice was an important part of Norse religion as we understand it. Animal Sacrifice was used to bring blessings on a home or endeavour, even after a successful trading trip or as a trade voyage was begun. The biggest slaughter would be for the mid-winter festival when a giant pit would be dug and animals both hunted and raised would be mass sacrificed, including an expensive horse if the community or household were wealthy. Also part of that would be the Sacrifice of a prisoner, a criminal sentenced to death. Human sacrifice of criminals may also take place at the start of a voyage of war or even a battle, afterwards a captured enemy may be sacrificed to give thanks for the victory. However often on raids only one human would be left to tell the tale and spread the fear. A poor family may sacrifice part of a crop or some coin instead of an animal as the meat was more valuable as food.

The ritual I used in the story is based on the animal sacrifice and would have been quite common at the time for calling blessings on a home or newly launched ship. Knowledge of such rituals have survived in writings and sagas of the time. Although the writings of monks such as those of Asser, Alcuin and others must be tempered with other sources as they are coloured with the church of the time's view of the events. Remains of sacrificial pits have been found and from the remains within we can discover some aspects of the rituals involved. I have tried to combine information from both sources in the story.

Huscarls: Sworn men of a Lord who had been elevated to nobility by their lord and rewarded with land for their service. They formed the Lords council of advisors and may one day be Lords in their own right.


	7. Octo equestrian

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise from the books by J. K. Rowling remains hers and hers alone, I make no claim on them.

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

 **Octo-equestrian.**

 **10th Century.**

10th Century.

The visit of his former student had left Salazar unsettled; he sat in his office pondering what he had gleaned from the man's comments and behaviour. He had chosen to sit at his desk in his new office in what his students had already called the dungeons of the castle, although they did not in fact house any cells at all, they were elsewhere in the castle. The windowless room suited him; it was well lit by torches and a fire roared in the fireplace, providing the perfect place where he could concentrate on his work with minimum distractions. The shelves held hundreds of books, his own collection, alongside many jars containing the various samples he had collected over the years. There were three doors leading from the room, one onto the corridor and the rest of the castle, one into the common room of his house, the other to his private quarters, but it was this room that was his sanctuary where he created his potions, planned lessons, thought and that was certainly what he needed to do now.

It had been obvious to him that Styr, his student, King of Jorvik, had been preoccupied while he had viewed the school. The man had not been interested in the subjects taught, or even the accommodation his son would occupy whilst the boy attended as might be expected. He had only shown interest in the structure of the castle, not the undeniable fact that it was unusual and should inspire awe in anyone seeing it for the first time, after all but rather in it's strategic position on the hill in the mountainous valley, the thickness of the doors and walls as well as how it was protected. Salazar had not revealed the nature of the wards nor had he identified the ones they had set just the night before, but had assured his former student of the safety of his son, telling him that this was the most secure place on the Island for their kind. This had appeared not to reassure the man at all, in fact he seemed disconcerted by it, worried, even concerned. What was his pupil up to? He knew Styr was ambitious and anyone who could take a throne the way he reportedly had must be ruthless, but surely he wasn't behind the treatment of wizard kind in Northumbria. Yes he had killed his squib brother, but that wasn't surprising, Salazar would have done the same in Styr's place. It was, in his opinion, shameful to have such weakness in the family, worse even than having Muggle ancestry. No he was sure the King valued Magical blood, Utred was walking proof of that. Hadn't the boy been spared when Styr had usurped his brothers' throne? Surely that showed Styr's nature, the boy had arrived with his families' horde intact after all, even though the family lands had been taken. After five years at the school the boy, even under Gryffindor's tutelage surely understood the importance of a wizard being King and how misguided his father had been to support the squib.

Once Salazar had returned the King to his palace though, the man had still tried to get information about where the location of the castle was; this had really raised alarm bells. Did his former student not trust him to care for his boy? Was it not enough to know that the wards were the most secure that that could be provided? Why was he so, insistent in his need to know where the school was? This had been when Salazar's in built alarms had sounded loudly. Certainly he had suspected his first students motives during the tour, but had put that down to the in-built self-protection he himself had and had nurtured in his student those years ago. It was now he was sure his doubts had merit beyond what he had thought, though precisely what the man's plan was he had no idea. Salazar had quickly made his excuses and left to ponder events in the sanctuary of his office. His doubts soon gave way as he justified the actions of the man who had been more than a student to him; during the years of the apprenticeship they had become friends. Perhaps not trusting each other completely, to do so would have been to allow weakness, it was another of Salazar's maxims born of his experiences in life, he had long ago learned to trust no one totally, others could use that trust against you. His arguments with the other three here at Hogwarts demonstrated the necessity of keeping that in mind, at the least for protection. The three here in this castle were, apart from Styr, the ones he had become closest to allowing himself too trust completely. Yet they had foolishly ignored his warnings of the dangers of teaching the Muggle born, placing magical folk in further danger. They could not see that Muggle born witches and wizards, who had not been brought up knowing the risks of being magical, could easily let slip the secrets of the world they were creating, placing themselves and others in danger, where pure bloods would instinctively know not to gossip or show off their talent. It seemed that only he could see this danger and therefore the necessity of restricting their teachings to those of magical blood. Perhaps one day they could cope with Muggle born, but not now when their loyalty could not be guaranteed and the risk was so high. Styr was one man, it seemed, who had always remained loyal to him, as much as his ambition allowed. That did not mean that now he was King having to tolerate some mad Christian archbishop, he would betray Slytherin or his people, just as the arguments with Godric, Rowena and Helga did not mean Salazar would betray them or the school. Yet still Salazar felt lingering doubts, not everything could be so easily dismissed about the King, after all he was his Master's student and his ambition and cunning might lead to him betraying him, except for one thing. The oath, which was all that protected him from Styr's desire for power and being crushed by his methods to get it.

Salazar looked out over the grounds where the students were still busy dismantling the old traditionally built long houses, he watched his own students before his eyes moved on to take in the other students. Finally he watched the Creaftas and Gryffindor's students. He smiled slightly; the Creaftas might be the bane of his life here in many ways, if only they would focus their talents more seriously. He could not deny they were extraordinarily talented; he even admired their skills and achievements, despite their application being in pranks and modifications to how the Castle had been intended. Even if the great hall ceiling was one of the most inventive uses of magic he had seen for many years, it was, he believed, a waste of that talent and that annoyed him. He hoped that nothing more had been done by them to the school, but feared that more remained to be found. He might have a sneaking admiration for the group he watched carefully, especially its leader, but unless he and they became more focused, he would never admit it.

* * *

Utred, the leader of the group that had become the focus of Salazar's thoughts, had remained blissfully unaware that the man who had ordered his family's murder had been in the school, let alone had stood watching them work and had recognised him. Styr the Usurper, as he and his friends called him when they were being polite, was the last thing on his mind as he enjoyed dismantling the long house that had been his home for five years. Erik and Ulf were working with Muggle tools while Utred and his house mates used their wands to remove the thatch and planks to stack them in what, until last night, had been the schools Great Hall. The members of each founder's house worked on the building they had occupied, they had all been well rested in their new accommodations within the castle the night before, following the festivities and excitement of their first night in a new place. There would be another, smaller, celebration this evening, this time marking the end of the old school, the centre piece of which would be the burning of the Hall with the components of the other four houses in it. For the Creaftas though the highlight would be when everyone returned to the castle afterwards and the prank they had planned for years, their biggest prank so far, would finally activate.

The atmosphere amongst Gryffindor's students was light, they were teasing and joking with each other as they worked, and minor pranks were being played on each other as to break up their time. They had simply climbed up over the house and started work enthusiastically; the long house was quickly disappearing, as they ripped into the timbers. This was in contrast to the other houses, the Slytherin's, for example, worked slowly, in disgusted silence as usual when manual work was expected from them, it was well known they thought Pure Bloods such as themselves were above such menial work. The Ravenclaw's worked methodically, discussing the solutions to each problem between themselves before starting, then efficiently dividing the work between them. The Hufflepuff's had also put their heads together before starting work, then worked meticulously all together on the one task before progressing to the next.

The following day, if the four old long houses had been demolished and the former Great Hall had been burnt, then work would begin on a stone replacement for the old lodge that Utred had arrived in. The replacement would still be where Ulf and Erik lived, but it was time to replace the old timber structure next to the lake, it had served many years as a hunting lodge even before it arrived here to become the home of the pair of game keepers. If the Gryffindor's finished early, as their chaotic, but fun approach seemed to indicate they would, then they had said they would start on the destruction of the lodge today. The Creaftas, being the earliest of Gryffindor's students, were looked up to by their house mates and had instilled a love of creativity in them, as well as mischief. As student leaders of the house, they took their responsibility as seriously, taking care of the younger students, who looked to the Creaftas for guidance, ensuring they were looked after as they settled into life at the school. They were keen to start a new building project and so all worked quickly to demolish their old home, so they could start on the smaller project, the only drawback being that apart from preservation and security charms, even Utred had promised not to add any surprises to it.

It was a hot day; the latest of several sunny days without rain, a barrel of ale had been placed next to each house to ensure none of the students went thirsty during the work. It was the weak first brew, made from water of the streams that fed the lake, which although purer than any Utred had seen either at Thwing or at Jorvik, it still had the potential to make someone ill if they drank it before it had been made into Ale. Things died in streams, urinated, washed and worse in them, but it was known that making Ale from it made the water safe to drink, even if the risk was less here than in most places. The Elves, who made the drink, used the bran mash three times, with each brew getting stronger, but each would only stay fresh for a week in the barrel after which it would go stale and was used for a drink for pigs or cattle. There was little chance of any of the Ale in these barrels going stale though, it was so hot that the amount left in them was rapidly reducing as the students did their best to avoid becoming ill in the heat and through the hard physical work.

It was shortly before they were due to break to have a mid-day meal, when a distant sound distracted them. The Gryffindor's had almost flattened their long house, only the large uprights of the frame remained in place, these large tree trunks were set deeply in the ground, held sturdy with rocks and stones buried with the base, the four largest set at each corner. Once the remaining pile of planks and thatch had been cleared from between them the Gryffindor's were planning a race between four teams of themselves to flatten the largest poles. The Creaftas and their ladies would of course be one team, Ulf, Erik and Godric were going to referee the race, no magic was allowed of course, though Muggle tools were, this was to be a physical test, which would probably prove far more entertaining for participants and spectators alike. In the meantime they were all moving the debris and stacking it in the central long house, which had been the Great Hall. The students of the other three houses had barely completed removing the roofs of their houses in the time the Gryffindor's had torn into their own, but still progress had been made. They were all anticipating the meal of bread, meat, and cheese washed down with more of the Ale, when the low continuous rumbling sound, like distant thunder, came from the direction of the village.

"Sounds like Durslieg is hungry again." Quipped Tigelwotta, to the merriment of those nearby.

The rumbling sound continued, a constant drone coming closer.

"Sounds more like horses, lots of them, moving fast as well." Ulf observed.

"Someone's coming then, in a hurry too, by the sounds of it." Utred commented and turned to a nearby younger student. "Fetch Godric quickly, tell him we have unexpected visitors on the way."

The youngster ran off towards the castle, but didn't need to go in as the tall figure of Godric Gryffindor appeared at the door, just as the student reached the top of the steps. He nodded to the boy and sent him to tell the students of the other houses to be ready, then strode towards his students. "I doubt its anything to worry about, but be ready just in case." He instructed.

The Gryffindor's withdrew their wands, Ulf and Erik drew their swords, they noticed the students from the other houses readying themselves as well, just in case of an attack. Abandoning their tasks for the time being and gathering together, forming a barrier across the lawns, wands drawn alongside their schoolmates facing the direction of the thunder. They may have rivalry between the houses, but when it counted they all knew they would unite against any potential threat to the school, even the haughty Slytherin's would stand shoulder to shoulder with the others to protect what they had here. As they watched, a cloud of dust rose above the trees between the school and Hogsmeade, the sound was getting progressively louder.

"At least two dozen riders I would say, at least from the sound they are generating and that cloud of dust, most likely more." Ulf told Utred. "Moving very fast too, if it's an attack watch yourself my Lord, we may be too occupied to help, as will you if it comes to it."

Utred nodded as his two sworn men from Tang took defensive positions on either side of him and the Creaftas formed a tight group around them, in case those approaching charged at them and got through the barrier they could cast with their wands.

The dust cloud reached the gate, moving faster than Utred thought was possible for horses, thick near the ground the particles rising like a dirty cloud in a plume behind it appeared to be rolling quickly across the ground, masking whatever was creating it. Whatever it was, it veered away from the track that led to the main door to head towards them. The sound of the hooves dulled over the grass as it slowed, but continued to approach the defensive line of students. The dust cloud began to dissipate, revealing six pure white, very large rider less horses, Gryffindor sheathed his wand raised his hands, palms forward, reassured by the founder's actions the students sheathed their wands too.

Godric took three steps forward, the equine continued to slow, their legs still a blur of motion, the sound like still like thunder. The white horses drew to a halt a few yards in front of Gryffindor; they truly were massive beasts, towering above him, his head only just the same height as the bellies of the Equine, as he stood before them. Their silvery manes, thick and luxurious, the thin gossamer like strands dancing in the slightest breeze on their necks as they tossed their heads and whinnied, flicking their long tails. Sweat was running down their bodies and their nostrils flared as they drew air in and tried to calm themselves from what had obviously been a long gallop. As magnificent a sight as this was, it was not the size or beauty of the equine that caused all the students to gasp, for as they halted their legs had become visible, each one had not got the expected four, but eight, these were not horses, they were Sliepnir.

Every student, whether Wizard or Muggle born, had heard of Odin's eight legged steed, they were part of the mythology of that god, none however had believed them to actually exist, yet here, right before their eyes, at this magical place, six of them stood in front of them. Even the staff that had been in the castle and had rushed out to see what was happening had stopped in their tracks at the top of the steps to gaze open mouthed at the newcomers. The sound of heavy footfall behind them broke the awed chatter amongst the students that had grown in the moments since the Sliepnir had arrived, one of the Centaurs made his stately way towards Gryffindor.

"Godric, I heard the approach, I am happy to translate for you, find out my cousins purpose, if I may?" His deep booming voice sounded.

Gryffindor nodded as the six large white heads turned towards the Centaur. "Of course, your assistance would be most welcome Thane." Godric agreed.

Everyone watched as the single centaur and the Sliepnir appeared to hold a quiet conversation with each other. After a few moments the Centaur turned back to face the founder. "Godric, the Octo-equine, as we know them, are relieved to have reached their intended destination at last. It has been a long journey, they set off yesterday and have not stopped until they arrived, they also recall well meeting you many moons ago, during your apprenticeship, when there was many more of their kind. Since then they have been hunted by the Muggles, almost to extinction and seek sanctuary in your lands, which they heard had become a refuge for magical beings of all kinds. They are the last remaining of their species and wish to live the last of their days in safety, they are willing to offer whatever services they can to the community here in return for sanctuary."

Godric nodded "Please tell them they are welcome, I well remember my time with their kind and it is a pleasure to renew our acquaintance; we are honoured by their presence. They may join you in the forest or live with our horses in the stables where Ulf and Erik will assist them with whatever they need, which ever they prefer."

A brief conversation took place as Thane relayed the information to the Sliepnir, when it was over he spoke again.

"They understand you Godric, though they request I continue to speak for them until they can re attune their talents to communicate with you directly, a service I am happy to provide for them. They would welcome room in the stables and the opportunity to graze the grass again untroubled; they only resided in woodland when forced from their grazing lands."

"As they wish." Godric bowed. "I shall brief Erik and Ulf, all we ask in return is that they become part of our community with all the rights and responsibilities that entails as they have already offered."

"They will be relieved Godric, but for now require rest and refreshment, they hope you will allow that, then once rested will begin working with us all." The Centaur responded.

Godric nodded acceptance. "Of course, Ulf, Erik would you lead the way to the stables for them?"

The two Muggles nodded, then turned towards the stables, the Sliepnir followed slowly, with the Centaur bringing up the rear.

As the odd procession disappeared from view, most of the students made their way to where their food awaited them, with the exception of those of Gryffindor's own house who gathered round him. He raised his hand to prevent questions as the staff joined them. "Well that was unexpected, but we have six very rare new arrivals." He smiled as they arrived.

"Were those really what they appeared to be Godric? I never imagined Sliepnir really existed, I've certainly never come across them before." Hufflepuff asked amazed.

"They were indeed Helga, the very last of their kind though; it also appears the Centaurs know them by a different name." Godric assured her.

"Are you sure there are no more?" Ravenclaw asked.

"So they told me Rowena." Godric suddenly looked sad. "There were only about thirty when Merlin introduced me to their colony in Wales, many years ago, even then that was the last place they could be found. They are of course only to be found in Britain, none have ever been found in any other country and they would know if there were any. They only usually gather in family groups of a few, they can live in woodland, but prefer isolated open space, miles from other groups, I expect the colony that Merlin took me too, must have gathered for protection from being hunted. They are all telepathic within their species, though given time they can extend that talent to be able to communicate with humans, they can sense each other, if there were more anywhere they would more than likely know. It must have been so painful for them, feeling the deaths of each of the others, these are the remnants of the colony I met, they say they remember that occasion."

"Godric they may breed now they are here, it may not be the end of their line and they are a very powerful magical species after all." Salazar tried to assure his friend.

"No my friend that is impossible, when these six die then there will be none left and there is no possibility that they could breed again." Tears were on Godric's face at this tragedy.

"Surely they might Godric; I will need to learn their physiology, like I have with so many of the species that have arrived, perhaps some of my medicinal potions will help." Hufflepuff said laying a caring arm on his shoulders and hugging him.

It was undoubtedly true that of them all, Helga Hufflepuff was the medical expert at the castle and was the healer for all the occupants of the school and grounds, regardless of species. She had learnt about each species individual ailments and how to treat them as they had arrived. She had even managed to find a potion to help Kneazles breed again having discovered that the colony, the last they knew of, that lived here had not reproduced for many years. It was this that gave her hope she might do the same for the Sliepnir, but Godric shook his head. "No, Helga that won't be possible, not even by adapting your methods with the Kneazles. You see, due to their height, I was able to clearly see that these last six are all male my dear."

It was only then, that they realized why it was that Gryffindor was quite so upset. Only now did they see that this would be the last home of the wondrous creature, before it became extinct, the first magical breed to disappear completely for over a millennia. It was therefore a sombre group of Gryffindor's and Staff who returned to work a few minutes later, the arrival of the Sliepnir, initially so surprising, had also served as a reminder that Wizard kind was not the only magical species threatened by the growth of the power of the Christian church in the country and intolerance of its priests.

* * *

After his old mentor had returned him to his palace in Jorvik, King Styr of Northumbria had shut himself away to think about everything that he had been shown. Although he knew that having someone on the inside at the castle would be very useful to him, there was no question in his mind that his son would not be attending that school. It was far too risky with Utred Huntrodds there, who knew what the boy knew or if he sought revenge against him, which he might take out on his son. The Huntrodds runt was not supposed to have survived the hall burning at all, never mind flourished to be trained in any shape or form. It seemed Utred was magical, why else would he be there, so why had he not heard about it before? It would have been far easier to get rid of the family without going to all the trouble they had needed to, the church could have acted against them openly, if it had been known. He would have been glad to pass the information on himself, after all they had never found the wealth of the family, he wondered if it had existed at all. Now, having gone to all that trouble he had discovered they had not only failed to discover the Huntrodds hoard, but it turned out that they had not even eradicated the family at all and that spelt danger to him and his family. There could be no doubt that, from what he had seen at the school, Utred had thrived in the years since that night, he had grown into what appeared to be a formidable man, he would be an alarming warrior to face if his stature was anything to judge by. Unless he could be sure the landless Lord had no clue of who had killed his parents and would remain ignorant of it, then Thorfin would be in danger. Although the idea of having his son on the inside of the school was appealing, perhaps he would then learn of its location and any weaknesses in it as well. A spy inside the Castle would without doubt be very useful, that was undeniable, especially as he had no idea of its exact location, just a vague idea it was beyond the northern wall. The risk was far too high, especially for his son, even so, this school and what he had been told of the nearby settlement was equally an opportunity to solidify his position with the church, he needed to find a solution to this dilemma, soon.

Around mid-morning he entered the largest room of the Palace, it was one of the intact Roman built areas of the Palace, with a central area surrounded by large stone columns, creating aisles between them and the painted walls where statues and busts created in stone still stood. He had often wondered who they were, presumably they were wizards and the carvings created by Magical folk as well, no muggle could do so he believed. As such they were testimony to the higher civilisation of his kind, one he believed few of them today were worthy of, especially if they stood in the way of his ambition. The floor of the room was edged with the patterns of a mosaic, although the centre area between the pillars was covered with slabs of plain stone as if the whole was unfinished. This was his public Great Hall, the only room in the palace not completely private and used for the daily court, held to hear the disputes between his subjects, usually residents of the City, though not always. It was one of his duties as King to pass judgement on them, settle the argument and pronounce sentence where necessary. Most of the arguments were simple, land disputes, disagreements between families who either wanted to arrange marriages for their offspring or default on one for some reason or another. There were even one or two thefts from city stalls and disagreements between traders this morning, which would break the monotony of listening to boundary disputes. The court would begin with disputes between one or more people of high rank, then any between church and others, although in such cases the church would not lose often so even most pagans would bow to its demands. After those disputes, those between people of less importance or wealth were heard, before any involving criminal actions were heard. Still, despite the seriousness of each dispute to those involved, nothing could take his mind off the events of that morning. The castle, a structure as impressive as any the Romans had built, with a community of wizards and the other a possible threat to his ambitions, but still out of the way for the present. He would need patience if he were to take it for his own, the school would undoubtedly make a great prize to add to his status, but he had no idea how to capture it without having to give it over to the church even if he knew where it was. Still it would be an ideal prize to take, the perfect gift to the church that would ensure he would be the one chosen to rule all England.

His mind was still on the problem as the court ended and he returned to his family's quarters where he ate a distracted lunch. He ignored his wife's ramblings as he tried to think of a plan to capture the massive stone building, if he could find it. The thick stone walls would withstand any attack he could mount, no matter the strength of his army, and those were just the defences he could see. He wondered what the nature of the magical defences were, probably aimed against Muggles finding it he guessed, that would be a problem, his army could not attack what they could not see. Salazar had given so little away, if he were honest he was disappointed that his old friend could not see the importance of the King proving himself to the Christian leaders. So what if a few magical students might be killed, there were more important things to consider, no he would receive no help there. At least he had the afternoon to work things through with no disturbances, he must find a way of first locating the wizard school then capturing it for himself, the defeat of such a large community of wizards in one swoop would impress the Archbishops, gifting the crown of England to him.

He was drawn from his thought as one of his servants approached him, he indicated for the man to speak.

"My Lord, a messenger from the Archbishop's palace is here, you are summoned to attend Hrothweard this afternoon."

The King frowned, he had been summoned very few times to attend the Archbishop in the last five years, it was more usual that the senior priest in the city would come here. The first time he had been summoned to the house behind the Minster was just after he had become King. That was to receive instructions to raise taxes so the Archbishop could build a shrine to some saint or other. The shrine was still under construction and the saints' earthly remains, which were to be entombed in the shrine, were being stored at Onripum. The King shivered as he recalled having to kiss the preserved lips of the cadaver as part of his coronation, the fact that the flesh was so well preserved indicated to him that the Saint the Christians revered so much had in fact been a wizard in life. The body had been carried all over the north of England for many years after its original shrine had been destroyed in a raid. During that time it had been a trophy, leading the Christians into battle, though it was now a number of years since it had been placed in the safe keeping of the church at Onripum whilst the new shrine was built. It had been brought to Jorvik for the coronation, which was the last time it had journeyed, fulfilling the churches tradition that a new King show homage to a Saintly relic and therefore their God before they gave them their blessing.

The only other time he had been required to journey the streets of the city to attend the Archbishop had been so he could demand reinforcements be sent to aid the King of Wessex. This he had had to do to maintain the support of the church, though it left Northumbria vulnerable at the time.

Whatever the reason the pompous Archbishop wanted him for this time, he could not refuse the summons. To do so would remove any chance he had of reaching his goal, he had to play his part well, at least in the eyes of the Archbishop who he had spent many days convincing to allow the churches warriors to fight under his banner and allow him to take the throne from his brother. Besides, despite the spies he had across Northumbria, both inside and outside the church, he knew the Archbishop was far better informed. Every priest could write and sent letters with news to each other, which they passed on, all of it reached the Archbishop, who would pass it on to his counterpart in Cantwaraburh, who would pass news to him. Their network was vast, even covering the lands of the Welsh, Irish and Scots, wherever they had priests, they gathered information and the knowledge gave them power.

"Very well, have my horse prepared." The King sighed.

The slave bowed and left the room as well as a thoughtful King behind him. Had the church already decided? Had his absence this morning been noticed? Was he about to lose his throne so soon? This was his worry every time Hrothweard appeared before him, or even at his side as a supposed trusted advisor in his Witan. The King gave every appearance of taking the man's counsel, to fail to do so would be seen to refuse the advice of God in the Christians eyes. His entire household knew to act loyal to the church, even though none of them were truly Christians themselves, they knew enough to act as if they were when any of the followers of that faith were about. In truth, their only loyalty was to him, he had made sure of that. Still he had to answer the call of the man, he had to go when summoned, he had little choice. He left his family to change into his finest clothing for the ride through the city's streets, another thing he only did when necessary, although he would be in another's palace, a place where he would not be in power, it did not mean he should not dress to impress those who saw him.

* * *

The talk of the school over lunch was the new arrivals, especially with the younger students, except amongst Utred and the Creaftas. They busy were plotting how to fell the pole they had selected in the most entertaining way possible, at least the best they could come up with. The race to fell the uprights had been their idea and supported by all the Gryffindor's, each welcoming the extension of the fun of the opening of the new building the evening before. Still it meant that Utred's group had to put on a show, rather than pick simple or sensible ideas, it was what was expected of them and they were more than happy to comply.

After the meal the Creaftas led the Gryffindor's out to the skeletal remains of the long house, word of the race had spread throughout the school, anticipation grew. The students of other houses watched them approach the fourteen uprights, left standing around the rectangle of floor in the grass, expecting, knowing they would be entertained. The Gryffindor's soon removed the ten intermediate uprights along the sides of the building, leaving the four massive corner posts, which were to be the subject of the race. These were the main posts in the construction, erected to anchor the long house frame firmly in the soil; even without the support of the walls they were solid and unmoving in the ground. With the wall posts stacked in the old Hall, those Gryffindor's participating in the contest arranged themselves around the posts, the Creaftas chose one and stood around it, the girls stood with them.

Erik and Ulf together with Godric stood in the middle of the bare space between the posts, Godric started the race enthusiastically and the four teams began. One of the teams attached ropes to the top and started to pull until the ropes broke, the post had bent over at the top a little, it sprang back and vibrated when the break released the tension. Another team started chopping at the base with axes, while the third simply gathered round there's and started to try and push it back and forth. The Creaftas had a plan though; they used spades to quickly dig out the earth on one side of the post to a depth of three feet, half way round its diameter. Then they climbed one by one to the top until no more could fit there, then began shifting their weight to destabilise the post. Soon they were wobbling the top, using the pole itself for leverage and the post began to move, pushing itself through the rocks that had been packed round its base to hold it in. The stones began to shift, until the back and forth motion dislodged first one into the pit, then another and others soon followed as they were shifted and the compaction weakened.

The team with the axes were tiring and they weren't even a quarter of the way through their post. The team with ropes had realized, breaking them for the third time that they needed to excavate the base. The ones trying to shove the post were getting nowhere, when suddenly the Creaftas post shifted through the rocks, reaching the point where it moved under its own weight, they all leapt clear laughing. The post hit the ground with a deep hollow thud and the watching students cheered as the Creaftas stood to take a bow. The post had left a gaping crater in the ground where it had pushed up the earth behind it; soil had sprayed the watching students as the post had toppled. Undaunted The Creaftas decided the other teams needed help and split up to help them enthusiastically. The next post to fall was the one hauled by the team using ropes, having weakened the ground supporting it they successfully pulled it from its position, again leaving a deep hole in the earth.

After a brief celebration they again divided to help the other teams. The team with axes had given up the tools and had started to dig round the base, as had the other remaining team; it was now a race to see who would dig out enough to topple the tall timbers first. Whilst half of each team was digging, the other half was shoving or climbing the timbers, hoping to dislodge them. The diggers had to watch out and be ready to jump out of the way not wanting to get crushed when the posts fell. Suddenly both tree trunks broke free of the earth at the same time, students scrambled clear as with a final push on each they fell to land at the same time. The other houses loudly cheered the Gryffindor's as they rolled the massive timbers to the one remaining intact long house, one fourth of the number of students helping to push each one, then man handle it into the hall.

The students of the other houses returned to dismantling their own long houses, those of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff abandoning their methods and using the more haphazard style of the Gryffindor's, the Slytherin's, still bemoaning the menial nature of the task. The Gryffindor's gathered next to the lodge with the founders who had decided where it's replacement would be built, with several hours of daylight still left of the day for the Gryffindor's to start on the task. By the time all four long houses had gone, leaving the central one stuffed with timber and thatch, the old lodge had also gone and the foundations of the new one had been dug, using shovels and wands. A substantial amount of stone had been gathered and placed nearby ready for construction to begin the next day. Last to finish work on the old houses were of course the Slytherin's, who finally placed the last of their timbers in the old hall just before the celebration was due to begin, they had refused any and all offers of help from the other students in the end, it had become a matter of pride to complete the task themselves.

For the second night running the students gathered in front of the castle, this time to mark the end of an era, the school they had known would be no more after tonight. The villagers of Hogsmeade joined them for this momentous occasion, except of course the Durslieg's, the three Muggles had been invited, but did not arrive. Rumours spread of another run in with a neighbour, the story concluded with various endings ranging from the elder Durslieg male being stupefied and carried home to be dumped outside his house, to the whole family being hit with hexes so they now resembled slugs. Some wondered how anyone could have told the difference, but the truth had been somewhat more mundane. Utred spoke with the Ollivander's, who told him that the Muggles had shut shop early and retreated into their home, shouting loudly so anyone who was in ear shot could hear that they would not attend some freak celebration not wanting to subject their poor delicate son to such depravity and would enjoy the peace in the village that evening. It hardly mattered; the family was not missed as everyone else tucked in heartily to the feast, sat at tables set outside for the event.

The old hall was set ablaze from torches thrown by most who attended; the flames soon reach high into the sky, smoke bellowing high into the night sky, lifted by the heat of the fire. Music was provided by wood nymphs from the forest and many danced or joined in the singing. Others listened to Orin as he told stories of his adventurers with Utred's father as well as the more traditional Saga's, which they all knew, but changed slightly with each retelling. Utred stood silently, sadly watching the hall burn from the steps of the castle, Ulf and Erik at his side.

"Orin is trying not to watch." Utred observed. "Keeping himself distracted telling the tales."

"Yes my Lord." Eric agreed.

"Too many memories." Ulf said flatly.

All three men were remembering the discovery of their destroyed home. Ulf had not seen the remains at Tang, but still he remembered, Orin had witnessed the hall burning and despite his enthralling telling of the tales, Utred could hear the sadness in his voice as the old man sat with his back to the blaze.

"I will take revenge, I haven't forgotten." He said, determination in his voice.

"We will be at your side when you do Utred." A voice said.

The Creaftas and their ladies climbed the steps to join them; he felt Frayja's hand grasp his, as she took her place at his side he looked at her, deep into her eyes.

"All of us will be there when you destroy the usurper my beloved." She whispered.

"Aye I expect you will be my friends." He nodded his thanks to them as they renewed a pledge they had made when they first heard his story.

They turned to watch the flames which ravenously consumed the wooden hall, fuelled by the remains of the other four inside and fanned by the wind. Behind the group they heard a large crack echo through the castle and a grinding noise began, followed by another and another. More followed each sounding higher up the interior of the castle, though no sound of falling stone came after any of them indicating structural failure inside. Glancing at each other, the group of young apprentices began to laugh.

"They work then." Grinned Leoforwic and the laughter increased.

Erik and Ulf looked at the group bewildered, then as realization set in Ulf muttered. "I don't believe it, they've bloody well done it again, Salazar will go spare after what they did to the ceiling."

Erik Groaned. "You lot will give Godric a heart attack if you've put any more surprises in his castle he can't fix, but Odin, if you are half as ingenious in battle as you are with pranks, your enemy's don't stand a chance."

* * *

 **20th Century**

The next morning, the occupants of Grimmauld place planned to stay in, following the excitement of the day before. They met at breakfast, during which Maria arrived to spend her day off with Dudley. They decided that they all had things that they needed to sort out, not least what had been retrieved from Privet Drive, so they separated and went to different rooms to complete their tasks.

Harry and Ginny went into the drawing room, where they finally explored what was amongst the paperwork that was still in the family closet that they had found when clearing what had been Sirius' room in Grimmauld place. What with Harry's illness, being at Hogwarts and the preparations for the wedding they had realised they had not had chance to see exactly what the parchments in it were, although their initial look last year had told them to expect surprises amongst the documents. They had, of course, already seen some of the parchments and papers, such as the family tree, it was only now that they took the opportunity to at least sort through them properly. They found that there were many bundles of letters, each pile tied together with narrow ribbon, as well as sheaves of other, loose parchments, many folded, that they had yet to examine.

Meanwhile, Petunia, Dudley and Maria were leaving them alone to do the task; they were sat in the living room chatting while they sorted through the chests that had arrived the previous evening from Privet Drive. It was Maria's day off and she had chosen to spend it helping the two Muggles go through some of the chests, helping to sort through them. The chests had been packed as expediently as possible, so now they were repacking them as they sorted, so they knew what each contained.

It was a task of discovery for both groups, though for the Dursley's it was with mixed emotions that they sorted through the items in the chests. The Potters, however, were feeling excited as they sifted through the documents, sorting them into piles depending on type on the long table that Kreacher had brought up from the dance hall downstairs. The bundles of letters, neatly tied with thin ribbon, were placed at one end of the table, deeds, share certificates and other legal documents were placed into neat piles according to type by Ginny while Harry was still carefully lifting items from the ancient chest. The objects they had kept in the closet, including the number of magical instruments, he placed on a separate table, to be returned to the chest later.

Finally he announced. "That's the last of them." As he added more to the stack of loose parchments yet to be sorted.

There was certainly much more than they had expected, or remembered, from that initial opening last summer or the more recent one a few months ago.

"At last, there's so much to go through. You start on those bundles of letters, see if you can put them in some sort of order, I'll keep looking through these. Your family seems to have owned more than we thought, both property and in stock Harry. At least if all of these turn out to be deeds and certificates like I think they are."

"Let's just hope none of those are us owing a fortune to anyone." He grinned as he opened the family tree, spread it across the floor and looked at the names on the first bundle of letters.

They had decided that he should try to match the bundles to people on the tree if he could, the document was larger than they had seen before, they had not opened it fully previously, the floor was the only place there was space in the room for it. He collected a small pile of the bundles and began searching for the people referred to on them, including one stack addressed to the ancestors with whom they shared a name and who had owned the bureau he and Ginny had retrieved from the cottage at Godric's Hollow. It was now positioned between the windows of this room that looked out onto the green outside, on it, next to the small broomstick that had been in the closet, were the tickets that had arrived from Gwenog by owl early that morning for the weekends Harpies game. She had been delighted to arrange them for the group, even though it was an away game for the all-female team, their oppositions owner had been just as enthusiastic that they should attend.

Ginny was becoming more and more intrigued by the number of companies the Potters had a stake in, or owned out right, as well as the bonds and other investments she found that they owned. She came across a list someone had drawn up of the stock held on his or her behalf at Gringotts, at the bottom was written.

"This is merely what they know about at the ministry or the bank; my father didn't trust either completely so he placed more in the family closet for safe keeping, ensuring there was a backup for us all."

She looked at the date of the list prepared by the Wizarding bank attached to the note, 1980. The note must have been written by James, Harry's father, she realised, so this was simply a list of what was in the vault, the couple had yet to explore its contents fully they hadn't even had a statement yet to show what was contained in any of their vaults in fact.

"Harry" She called as he placed the last bundle on the tree.

"Yes Gin, what's up?"

"I think we are going to need to visit Gringotts soon," she told him.

"Why? We don't need to get any gold do we?"

"No, it's not that, but we need help to sort through this lot and there are more in the Potter vault, goodness knows what's in the Black one as well. There is just so much, it could take us the whole summer to wade through it all, we need someone who knows what they are looking for, you need to know what you own."

"You mean what we own my love." He smiled and picked up the list she had just put down and glanced down it to the hand written note.

Ginny smiled at her slip, much as she'd looked forward to marrying Harry she was not yet used to thinking of herself as a Potter, part owning what Harry did, she was just not used to it. "Ok, what we own. We still need all this official stuff gone through properly though, it's a real mix of magical and Muggle assets, we don't know if some of these older companies still exist." Her eyes fell on the next certificate; it was for a Muggle company. "Besides we need to know what responsibilities we have for all of them, if any. We might even need to form a holding company, I just don't know."

"All right Gin, though from this we shouldn't just leave it to Gringotts, we need someone we can trust."

Ginny read the certificate in her hand and a wry smile crept across her face. "Oh Harry you have got to see this." She chuckled.

"What is it?" He sighed then read the document in her hand. "You must be joking, I own that?"

"Looks like it, if only you had known before" she giggled.

"Too right, oh this could be so funny, can you imagine his face if he found out. I wonder what Dud and Petunia will think?" Harry laughed, then a thought struck him. "Hang on, I wonder if that needs looking into, he always seemed to get rises and stuff at the drop of a hat."

"That's another reason to have someone who knows about this kind of thing go through all this, your family own quite a number of companies, not just Grunnings. We need to make sure our companies are being run properly, but who would go through all this paper work for us that we can trust?"

Harry thought for a moment, then he looked at Ginny, they both smiled and said "Bill."

They laughed, "He's one of the few I know who would know what to do, could properly advise us and who I can trust with this." Harry said.

"Me too," Ginny agreed with Harry. "I'll owl him to ask, I am sure Gringotts will let him though."

"We could employ him for it if they don't." Harry said, "He would be able to get us a statement of what's in the vaults too. I wonder what other banks are involved in this, the Muggles could hardly pay into Gringotts could they."

"Bill will find it out, I'm sure, I've heard they have links to Muggle banks, but he will know for certain, I'll send Tiberius to him now."

He nodded agreement and returned to the family tree, while she went up to their room to write the letter to her oldest brother Bill.

Across the entrance hall, in the lounge, Petunia, Dudley and Maria were busy sorting out the contents of the trunks that had been retrieved from Privet Drive. They too had created a number of piles, though theirs were on different parts of the floor of the room. One pile contained any items Petunia was taking to Hogwarts for lessons, she knew that Hermione had done her best to bring the class up to date and planned to continue that process with examples of technology so the pile contained mainly electronic items. There were a number of other items that they had needed to explain to Maria, which had surprised them as they considered them to be everyday objects, but as she had been puzzled about them they were added to the pile. Maria was as fascinated by these objects, which the Muggles considered normal, as Dudley and his Mother were about what to expect in the magical world. The long forgotten toys, that had been in the loft after Harry had moved into Dudley's second bedroom took up an entire trunk, even after Maria had shrunk them as they packed the items to be taken to the school. Petunia's gadgets and gizmos, were packed alongside a computer, video recorder, Television, even an electric guitar and Keyboard, went in the electronics chests. As they then sorted the piles of personal belongings they were keeping, both Petunia and Dudley were embarrassed by the lack of things that had belonged to or were about Harry, Maria didn't ask them about it, but it was a strong reminder to them of how they had both behaved towards him.

Petunia suddenly burst into tears, Dudley and Maria rushed to hug her.

"Oh Dud, why did we push him out so much? My sister's only son, he had nothing and we punished him for it." Petunia sobbed. "I can't believe the years I wasted for him, we took his childhood from him."

"I know mum, he didn't deserve any of it." Dudley replied. Maria was looking puzzled as Dudley continued. "Just remember though mum, he has forgiven us, put it behind him."

Petunia looked at him. "How can he do that so easily though? I couldn't forgive my sister for being who she was, I was so jealous of her I took it out on her child. I took the easy route to keep my husband happy, thinking I was happy too. All I really wanted was to have my sister back and it wasn't until our time in hiding that I began to see that I had got the next best thing in Harry, yet I had wasted those years when I could have got to know him, shared what I knew of his mother with him, with you both."

"I know mum, but I doubt if I would have wanted to know, not then anyway, I was not interested. He is the brother I never had now though, despite it all." Dudley comforted.

Petunia would not be comforted, not at that moment. "I was just so scared of standing up to what your father would say, Vernon's attitude and my desperate loyalty to a dream of an ideal marriage, even though looking back it was far from that, prevented me seeing it earlier. Then he was gone to fight, maybe die trying to defeat the man who had killed his parents, my sister and her husband who I barely knew. That first night in Derbyshire, I just hoped I wouldn't lose that last link to your Aunt Lily, prayed it wasn't too late for me to try to set things right. Seeing how you changed Dud, as you learnt about this world from Dedalus, I could see how you embraced the knowledge and how you grew as a person, fast, though I realised you had started that slowly after Harry brought you back that time. You were so concerned for Harry as you learnt more of what he had to do and so was I, but I was scared, frightened to show it, terrified that it was too late for me to get to know my nephew, petrified that he would reject me, as I believed I deserved from him. I thought that if I defied your father and was rejected by Harry I would have nowhere to go, I could not be alone, I could not have coped with being rejected by both."

Dudley nodded understanding. "You would not have been alone mum, I was there for you and I don't believe Harry would have rejected you, he was never like that. That was what surprised me, back on that day, when he went to the trouble to rescue me from the Dementor. I could just see it, a dark shadow hovering towards me, a feeling of utter despair, then it was covering me, it felt like it was sucking out my very soul. Yet after all I had done to him, ensuring he had no friends at school, beating him up, bullying him, he still acted to save me. Even then I was too stupid to realise what he had done, I made him try to carry me home, he did it too. It was only later I realised what he had done and tried to tell Dad, then as I thought about it, I could not understand why he had rescued me, I was determined to try to work it out, it was then that I began to see things differently. Not just Harry, but lot's of things, so I was not surprised when he arranged for us to be taken into safety when he had to. I still couldn't understand his motives, but was not surprised he did it. It was only while we were in Derbyshire that I began to understand the value he placed on family, he had none other than us and despite how we treated him, that was enough for him to care enough to give us another chance. Thanks to what Dedalus taught me, I became determined not to waste the opportunity we had been given."

"You became a man in that time Dud." Petunia said proudly. "Much more so than your father ever was, or it seems sadly could ever be. You did that despite us, not because of us. Dumbledore was right that day he collected Harry, we had harmed you by encouraging you to treat Harry like we did, by giving you everything you wanted, teaching you that you were better than Harry. Despite all that, you saw more, then for the last year you were there for me, even when your father was so intransigent. You gave me the strength to defy him in the end, for the sake of my family. You never knew my parents Dud; they were such lovely people and friends with everyone they met. They loved to learn about other cultures, always willing to accept other ideas outside what might be considered normal, whatever that really is. They could never understand my attitude to Lily, once she found out what she was, I was so jealous I shut them all out, but still, despite how frustrated they must have been with my behaviour, they supported me in everything I did, even when I met your father. He never liked them of course, he never knew they got him the job at Grunnings, he never allowed them to visit us, they never met you. They both died in a car crash when you were only a couple of months old, that's why we used that story about Harry's parents, I almost came to believe that lie, but it was never true about them anyway. I had lost my sister, lost my chance to reconcile with her and before that I had lost my parents, yet I still didn't learn not to waste opportunities. They would be so proud of what you have become now Dud, I wish you had known them, all of them. Our parents funeral was the last time I saw Lily, except in my own mind, until that photo in that shop, it was only when I saw that, that I realized how much I missed them all and it hit me just how much I had missed out on because of my childish envy. I blamed my parents' deaths on their openness to others; they were on their way to see Lily when the Lorry hit their car on the motorway. I took that out on Harry, instead of grieving properly for any of them. It was only in that shop that I realized how much I had blamed him for things he couldn't help."

"Mum it's all right, come on, things have changed, you've changed, and Harry knows that. He has accepted us for who we are now, not what we were, or what we did." Dudley assured her.

Maria was beginning to understand a little. "Petunia, I don't know what happened in the past, only what was rumoured, but one thing the war taught me is that you cannot change the past, just learn the lessons from it and move forward. Harry has forgiven what happened, come to terms with it and moved forward, he doesn't do that for people he doesn't believe deserve it, but it is typical of what I know and have seen of him. Despite whatever went on as he grew up, he has welcomed you into his home, not because of any sense of duty, or just because you are his family, but because he wanted to help you when you needed it. Your sister died to protect him and that was an awful thing to have to do, but if she hadn't you might never have got this chance to get to know him, or have the opportunity to be yourself again, the person she knew and loved. I have not known you long, I think I know Dudley better than I know you, but from what I have seen you have become a caring person who I can't wait to know better, if you will let me and I know Harry would like that chance too."

Dudley looked at his girlfriend. "I am so glad that you didn't know me a few years ago."

She smiled sadly "I guess the reports about how you treated him are true."

Dudley nodded cautiously. "Probably don't tell half the story really, I'm afraid Maria. I am not proud of who I was or how I treated him and others back then, in fact I'm rather ashamed of how much of a spoilt brat I was."

Maria nodded and took his hand into hers comfortingly. "That's what matters Dud, it's what shows you have become a person I am glad to know. When I met you, at the wedding, I knew who you were before you told me, I was quite prepared to not like you, after all that was known, but I was intrigued that despite the stories Harry was obviously glad you had accepted the invitation, he wanted you there. As we talked to each other, I realized that you were no longer the person that had been reported, that you deserved the chance. I was at the battle at Hogwarts, saw what Harry did, we fought against prejudice taking control amongst other things. I realized I had judged you without knowing who you had become and that was unfair of me. Needless to say, I liked what I saw that day, very much indeed. You are not the person you once were any more, it's who you are now that matters, that's who I fell for."

She grasped his hand and they kissed.

Petunia watched her son; tears were still falling from her eyes, though now they were tears from gratitude. She was glad that her son had avoided being like his father, happiness that he had found someone like Maria, a strong girl who would be good for him and so obviously loved him for who he was. The couple broke their kiss and looked towards her.

"You all right Mum?" Dudley asked.

"Oh yes Dud." She smiled and wiped her eyes. "Just so happy for you both. I just realized both my boys, you and Harry, are so lucky, he to have Ginny, you to have Maria, not long ago I wouldn't have believed it possible."

The two young people blushed, and then hugged Petunia.

"Oh stop it you two or I really will cry." She chuckled returning the embrace.

They separated laughing before they resumed checking the trunks, sorting through the contents and packing what was to go to Hogwarts. They had finished filling the first two that would go to the school by the time Kreacher arrived in the room and started to pick up one of the emptied trunks that they had finished with, to take back upstairs.

"It's all right Kreacher, I can do that, I don't mind." Dudley said to the elf.

"Oh no Master Dudley, it is Kreacher's pleasure to help, I will transport the ones for Hogwarts to the castle for you as well." The Elf replied, then with a slight pop, he and the trunk disappeared.

"We can't let him do that; he'll wear himself out poor thing." Petunia exclaimed worried.

Maria put a reassuring hand on the older woman's arm. "It's all right Petunia, I promise he won't, elves have a magic all of their own, it means he will be fine."

The elf reappeared "Miss Maria is right Madam Petunia, we elves can do lots of things with our own magic and not tire, especially when we have a family to work for which boosts our power and wellbeing. I am proud to help my Masters family; it is not the slightest trouble at all."

"Thank you Kreacher." Dudley smiled "We are just not yet used to having such good help, if we forget I hope you will forgive us."

"Of course Master Dudley, now are any of these other trunks ready to go, or is there anything else I can do for you."

Dudley showed the elf, which trunks could go to either his or his Mother's room and the ones which were for Hogwarts, Kreacher transported those directly to the castle and into the Muggle Studies classroom, ready for when Petunia arrived before the start of term.

Molly and the Twins arrived at Grimmauld Place just in time for lunch, by which time both groups of the residents of house had finished their different tasks, at least in Harry and Ginny's case as much as they could without Bill's help. They were gathered in the lounge where Harry, Ginny and Maria were telling Petunia about Hogwarts, what to expect and what to look out for. Peeves being quite high on the latter list, a fact which Harry was sure would be a source of pride for the Poltergeist. Petunia took the news of the mischievous spirit quite well, considering how she would have reacted not long ago he thought.

The Twins bounded into the room enthusiastically, they had spent the morning at St. Mungo's, visiting Eli and Maggie. They had their new broomsticks in their hands, having taken them to proudly show the elderly couple, who were happy the twins were so pleased with the gifts. Molly followed them into the room at a more sedate pace, it was clear she was happy at the twins exuberance and gave each of them one of her trademark hugs. This was Dudley's first experience of Mrs. Weasley's usual, enthusiastic shows of affection, he had watched Harry and Ginny receive one before his turn, of course being used to them neither of them reacted too much. He happily accepted her invitation to her greeting, but emerged from it gasping for breath.

"Blimey Mrs. Weasley, I am pleased to see you too." He smiled gasping.

"Don't worry Dud, you get used to that from Mum," Grinned Ginny.

"Oh Dud, come on, surely you are over reacting." Said Maria, going to Molly happily when her turn came. She too emerged breathless and wheezing slightly. "Ok no you aren't." She gasped, laughing.

Harry, Ginny and the twins were howling with laughter, even the twins had got used to the strong greeting from their foster parent. Petunia was last to be hugged and knew what to expect, Molly had hugged her several times during their talk a couple of evenings ago. She actually quite enjoyed them; it reminded her of the hugs she used to receive from her own mother and sister, which she had returned, as she was growing up.

Molly was quite unperturbed by the reaction to her hugs, it was simply her way and she knew she was known for it. Greetings done, the twins sat on the floor between the sofas and started to tell them about their morning as well as passing on messages to them all from the elderly couple in the hospital.

"Maggie and Eli send their love and best wishes to everyone." Delilah began.

"They loved the brooms too." Tarquin told them.

"We told them both about meeting you Mrs. Dursley..."

"... They hope you are all right and settling into our world."

"Then we told them about Dudley and Maria..."

"... They know your parents Maria and were glad you have someone..."

"...Who likes Quidditch even if he can't play..."

"... And that he has a car that we can have a ride in."

Harry and Ginny looked at each other, blinked twice and burst out with laughing again, as did Molly. Petunia, Dudley and Maria were watching the two children wide eyed and open mouthed, their heads turning from one to the other as each spoke, as if they were watching a tennis match as the pair spoke.

"You two have been with George haven't you; he's been teaching you 'twin tricks' as he and Fred called them if I was to hazard a guess?" Harry said, still laughing.

The two youngsters nodded. "Yes, after breakfast this morning, before he went up to Hogsmeade..." Tarquin smiled.

"... He introduced us to the picture of Fred..." Delilah told them.

"...They showed us how to twin speak..."

"... As they called it, they were really pleased we picked..."

"...It up so quickly..."

"...It took them a few days to master it, they told us." Finished Delilah.

Dudley finally gave up and howled with laughter. "That is brilliant you two, I love it, I am glad I don't have to be one of your teachers, I bet you will even confuse this Peeves chap at Hogwarts."

The twins grinned, looking proud, Molly looked at them wistfully. "I wondered what George was doing with that photograph this morning. I remember when those two started that trick and noticed it today at the hospital. You know Eli thinks it's brilliant, you made his day."

The twins' smiles grew wider as their pride in what they had done grew.

"Brilliant! Harry we hope..." Delilah started.

"... You don't mind, but we told Maggie and Eli..." Tarquin joined in again.

"... About the surprise you got in Swiftshot's..."

"... They are so happy for you, though Eli says that he is not surprised..."

"... That a Marauder didn't let being dead stop him..."

"... And his wife, from attending their son's wedding as more than just photo's."

Harry smirked. "Good old Eli, he's right of course, if anyone could find a way it would be them."

"Just one thing Harry..." Tarquin asked looking puzzled.

"... What's a marauder?" Delilah finished the question.

Harry laughed, while Molly groaned, shook her head and put it in her hands, knowing what was coming.

"My father and his friends were well known as pranksters at Hogwarts, Fred and George found out about them and decided they were their heroes. The Marauders became famous in their time, but they were really talented too. One of them was a Werewolf, so the other three learned how to become Animagus, just so they could safely be with him during his transformations each month. They are all dead now though, although one of them was a teacher at Hogwarts for my third Year, that was Teddy's dad, he and I are the only two actual heirs of the Marauder's, although Fred and George were definitely the spiritual ones, George still is of course." Harry told them, grinning.

He noticed that the twins' eyes twinkled in delight and mischief, so added. "However, just remember, you have a marauders son as a teacher and his wife who grew up with both of their spiritual heirs. So we both know how to take merciless revenge on the perpetrators if they or their family are the targets of any pranks, so any that you trigger had better not be targeted at us." He winked.

"Harry, don't encourage them!" Molly exclaimed. "They will be needing to concentrate on their school work, not prank wars, I hope you understand that Tarquin, Delilah, I don't want to hear about you getting into trouble for such things, neither would Maggie and Eli. When you get back to school, you concentrate on work, yes?"

"Of course, Mrs. Weasley we understand." The twins chorused and Molly smiled.

"I know you do my dears." She told them satisfied her message had got across.

She didn't notice the smile that passed between the two, but Ginny did and grinned. She knew the twins would ensure they didn't get into trouble and would work, just not on school work alone. She could see George's influence on the two already, she wasn't about to point this out to her mother though, the twins deserved a chance at being children. She would do her best to curb any excessive pranks they planned and she knew Harry would too, she had a feeling that Twin speak was not the only secret George would let them in on, she knew her brothers had studied hard too, just knew how not to let it show.

At that moment Kreacher announced that lunch was ready, he had decided that the eight of them should eat in style, so he had laid it out in the dining room for them, they all went through to eat. As they sat down, the conversation moved on to what Petunia had begun to plan for her classes. She had lots of ideas, but she had assumed that the students would know about some of the things she took for granted, like electricity, however after the morning with Maria she was questioning that assumption. Ginny pointed out to her that many of the youngsters who had been brought up in the Magical world would have very little experience of the Muggle world. Some may never have set foot in Muggle Britain at all, so she might have to start with very basic facts about Muggles to begin with. The first years would especially benefit as they would not have even been in Hermione's class last year and she also thought the others might benefit from such a start as well at least for the first few lessons just to see what they recalled from their previous lessons. They offered to help Petunia put together lesson plans, to ensure the students caught up so she could teach them what she wanted to afterwards. Petunia, for her part, suggested that she might take topics such as transport or cooking and make at least one lesson from them, an idea all the adults thought a good one.

After lunch Maria and Dudley walked to Diagon Alley to meet with George, Harry and Ginny took the twins to practice on their brooms in their room of requirement, leaving Molly and Petunia to chat in the living room.

* * *

George had spent the morning in Hogsmeade, looking over and discussing the company's expansion with Ron. He had arrived at the new warehouse behind the shop, to find his brother dealing with the latest delivery. Merchandise and materials were arriving at a steady flow from the Diagon Alley store room leaving space to expand that shops store front and for George to extend his Laboratory where he created new lines. Once the warehouse was in full operation it would supply both shops, they were going to make the shop floor at the Hogsmeade branch larger too. The shelves were getting full, not just with complete products, but also components ready to be assembled in another part of the building. Although the warehouse did not look out of place in the village from the outside, but inside it was a large space and would employ a number of villagers and others.

"Morning Ron, how's it going?" George asked as he began helping to stack the newly arrived items onto the shelves.

"Hi George, not bad. We are on target to open this place next week, just got to add supplies to the mail order department upstairs then we will be ready for the delivery owls." Ron replied.

The building was divided with the ground being primarily for storage and a factory area for assembly of products alongside a kitchen where products such as Canary creams were made, next to a laboratory for the production of the lotions and potions. The upstairs floor housed the staff facilities, office, mail order store and dispatch areas. They had employed staff from the village for the mail order and assembly departments, but still needed staff for the warehouse area and to oversee the whole operation.

They completed their task and made their way upstairs to what would be the office and sat to talk about how the business was doing and progress of the project to date. Ron reported that work on the shop floor expansion at Hogsmeade would start as soon as the warehouse opened; they would be able to get stock very quickly from the store, which was behind that branch. The Floo had been connected to Diagon Alley that morning to ease delivery to that shop. George smiled. "Good that will be easier than Apparating the stuff over as we have been. How's the search for staff?"

"We still need four people for the storage area, but I am interviewing tomorrow morning. The big problem is that we have no one to manage the place yet." Ron responded. "We both agreed it needed to be someone we know and trust rather than just any old applicant."

George smiled. "Well I think we have someone, Harry's cousin. I said he could work up here with you now that he is going to settle in our world. I think we can trust him and he has a good mind for this kind of work from what I saw at the wedding. His knowledge of the Muggle world will be useful too, we can start that line of non-magical jokes with his help, perhaps even invent some new ones to sell in their world too."

"Hmm good idea." Ron nodded. "Where will he live though? He is a Muggle, so he would need to be careful about that, a wizard landlord could easily fleece him with a memory charm making him forget he had paid the rent."

"I thought of that too." George grinned. "Now you have your own place in the village, how about we give him use of the flat over the shop here?"

"That would work, he could come to us for meals if he wanted, it's not far, but you would need to check with Aberforth if Muggles can live here. It's all wizards and I don't know if that's because of any rule or anything, it might be that he can't live here. He would know if there were any restrictions on who could live here, though I hope there isn't a problem." Ron said thoughtfully.

"Good thinking, I'll do that before I go back and meet with Dud, so are we agreed that if we can sort out his accommodation he is the new depot manager?" George asked.

Ron nodded. "Yes I would say we can, is Harry ok with it though?"

"Yes he's fine with it, glad his cousin will be close to Hogwarts in fact, apparently Petunia will be teaching there and I think he wants to be able to keep an eye on them both until they are used to living in our world."

"Good I thought that would be what he thought; I have no problem with it."

"Right well its time you knocked off to help that wonderful fiancée of yours; I'll go have a chat with Aberforth."

They soon made their way out through the relatively quiet Hogsmeade shop, waving good-bye to their shop assistant on the way. It was only on the Hogsmeade days that the town was overwhelmingly busy and the store was filled to bursting, though they did enjoy a steady stream of customers in these weeks of summer and there were a few browsing the shelves as they passed through. Professor Flitwick was one of their best customers in fact, though Neville popped in whilst he was working in the glass houses at the school too. Some of the locals had children who spent at least some of their pocket money in the shop and there was the new influx of visitors to the new memorial in the schools grounds which meant trade for all the shops in the village. The battle and memorial had boosted tourism to the area amongst magical folk, meaning that even Aberforth had smartened up the Hogs Head a little to try and get some of the visitors' trade. The village had not been so popular a place to visit since the shrieking shack had first started screaming once a month, but that attraction had waned over the years it had been silent, despite the locals taking turns to occasionally report noises from it to try to boost visitor numbers. They did not, however, play on the new reason for the villages' popularity; too many of their own had been lost for them to do that. The only memorial or battle merchandise available in the village was authorised and made under license to be sold in aid of the fund that had been set up for the victims and their families, none of it was particularly celebratory in nature. Other than those few items, each shop sold what had usually been on offer their before the battle, just more of it, the village was enjoying and benefiting from its new found popularity, at least for now.

Even though busy, the streets were nowhere near as crowded as they were on the days the students came down from the castle and for the most part the visitors were too involved in their own tasks to notice the others that they passed. Even so as Ron walked home, some of the visitors stared as he passed by, their children not so subtly pointing to him occasionally; he ignored it as parents told the children off. He had grown used to his new celebrity status and being recognized by people this summer, sometimes it annoyed him, especially after a long day in the shop when he was tired, more often he just ignored it. Occasionally a child would nervously approach and ask for his autograph, in which case, no matter his mood, he always cheerfully signed and chatted with the youngster. Mostly though as he walked from the main square through the village, visitors ignored him, either they were too deep in their own thoughts or assumed he was simply another wizard going to pay his respects at the memorial in the school grounds.

It was one advantage of the cottages location, when they had first moved in, they had worried they would be inundated with callers once it was realized they lived there, but that hadn't happened, at least not yet. Only the neighbours acknowledged them as they either went into or came out of their home and they treated them as they would any other resident or visitor. They had made friends with a number of the villagers during the last year, while Ron had worked at the shop, all of them knew them as people, not Celebrities, but they had both gained an insight into what Harry's life must have been like since he was eleven and why he valued genuine friendship and shunned hero worship.

The prospect of visiting the memorial seemed to have an odd effect on the. "Pilgrims" as one villager had dubbed them.

As they got closer to the edge of the village, they seemed to become more thoughtful and keep their heads down as they made their solemn way up to the school. When they returned their mood seemed to last, at least while they were passing Titch Marsh Cottage and its neighbours. They didn't seem to notice when he or Hermione entered the property, in fact when the couple had spent the day working entirely in the front garden, not one visitor had shown any sign of recognition, or interest in what they were passing, all of them appeared to be in a deep reflective mood.

Ron walked through the gate and up to the door, he heard the lock click back as his hand touched the doorknob, he pushed it open and entered the house. Calling his usual greeting to Hermione, he was surprised when there was no response. Odd, he thought, perhaps she had nipped out or been called away for some reason. They had agreed last night they would leave any notes in the lounge on the bureau, so he pushed open the door to the sitting room and went in, glancing to his side he saw there was no note. He looked round the room, there she was, and transfixed, staring unblinkingly towards him, from where she stood next to the sofa.

"Hermione?" he moved towards her.

She didn't notice. He followed her gaze, straight to the picture of Whitby.

He went over to it and looked at it, as soon as his head blocked her view she shook herself. "Oh Hi Ron, I didn't hear you come in."

Ron turned to her, stepping in front of the picture. "No, I saw that, are you all right, you were just staring over here."

"Yes I'm fine; I guess I was thinking about something." She replied nonchalantly.

"No 'Mione, I think it's more than that." he looked concerned, but she wasn't looking to notice.

"Oh, don't be silly Ron, what else could it be?" She said breezily, stood and walked past him to the door. "I'll go fix something to eat."

Ron nodded, then as she left he picked up the frame, something about this was affecting her, and he knew it. Next time he saw Minerva or Filius he would ask them to check it for magic, he didn't know what was going on, but he was damned if he would let it harm Hermione.

* * *

Authors Notes:  
My apologies for the long wait between chapters, real life got in the way of both me and Balthazar91, who I thank as usual for checking my work.  
My thanks to those of you who have read this story so far and especially to those who have left a review to date, I look forward to reading any that any of you are kind enough to leave. Those reviews that are posted by those with an account here, I always reply to.  
Hopefully it won't be so long until the next chapter is up.

Now onto the...

Historical notes:

Onripum = Ripon, North Yorkshire.

Dunholm = Durham.

There is no archaeological evidence for the existence of Sliepnir though plenty of period mythology. Of course absence of evidence does not mean evidence of absence, it could be that we just haven't discovered any evidence yet. (Ok I know highly unlikely really and I am not really grasping at straws just demonstrating an important archaeological principle, that of approaching every dig without preconceptions and with an open mind you never know what artefacts you might find.).

The King remembering his coronation, kissing the preserved remains of a saint is based on monks' writings of the time. Such a show of respect to a holy relic, it seems, was part of a coronation of a Christian King, as was baptism, which the Norse described as the Christians taking a bath, something that Saxons were not well known to do. There seem to have been a plethora of Relics for the church at the time, the saint mentioned being one that is even today acknowledged as genuine, it's history being well documented again by Monks. However quite a number were probably the result of enthusiastic non Christian traders cashing in on the churches greed for anything associated with saints or bible stories. Many religious relics of the time survive to this day in the collections of Cathedrals.

As mentioned above, it is recorded that the Norse would laugh at the Saxon Christians being baptised either in a river or a barrel of water, describing it as having a bath, because it was one of the few times Saxons would take a bath or wash by choice. The Norse bathed once a week and valued personal hygiene, they were quite clean, which probably explains why many Saxon women were attracted to them, certainly marriage between the two cultures was not uncommon. Saxon men would bath as little as possible, seeing it as a weakness, so they may bathe once a year if they decided they needed it, hence the Norse seeing the irony of the Saxon religion requiring them to take a bath, at least once, at baptism.

Despite bathing regularly and taking personal hygiene seriously enough to carry spoons to clean earwax in belt pouches, there were still some unsavoury, aspects of 10th century life and as personal hygiene of the time seems to be a bit of a theme in these notes, it seems opportune to mention one of them here. It is known that all would have been infested with head lice, amongst other parasites. We have found antler, bone and horn combs with period head lice in them, and so we also know that some action was taken to control them. In fact it is known that they had a chemical treatment for them, which was used as frequently as possible. They would collect cows urine and store it for several weeks until it was very stale, then wash their hair in it. This may well have had some effect on the lice but it also effectively bleached their locks blonde, and the lingering smell must have been interesting to say the least. However prevention being better than cure married women wore cloth caps as a sign of marriage, thus preventing lice infestation somewhat, in the first place. In the unlikely event that you can get the raw materials necessary please do not try this at home, your friends might notice and then you would not keep them for long. Has anyone begun itching now?

Best wishes to you all.  
Tgfoy


	8. Diversions

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise from the books by J. K. Rowling remains hers and hers alone, I make no claim on them.

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

 **Diversions.**

 **Late 20th Century:**

Dudley was spending the next day with George at the Diagon Alley shop and at the warehouse at Hogsmeade, getting to know the company's routines and stock, while the other occupants of the house had other tasks they needed to do. He helped organise and fine tune how things would operate at the at the warehouse, where the last few members of staff were being appointed while he was there, ready to start on opening day. He sat on the interview panels with George and Ron, deciding which of the candidates was best suited to what they needed. A number of deliveries were also received, he helped to sorted them out onto the shelves ready for use in the production area and mail order department. He had suggested separating the warehouse into two halves, to better divide the goods for the factory from the completed stock, preventing confusion between the different sections. George and Ron looked at each other, it was such an obvious thing to do, they could not believe they had not thought of it before. Using wands they soon had the stock rearranged and labelled, then led Dudley out though the shop in the village. They spent time familiarising him with the village and introducing him to many of the residents and showed him the memorial outside Hogwarts castle. Dudley was stunned by the school, amazed that this was where his cousin had gone, he could not help but, feel that Harry had got the better deal, when he compared the building with the ones Smeltings occupied. That said, he found he did not resent that for his cousin, though he was looking forward to seeing inside as well.

Dudley and Ron hit it off straight away, building on their brief acquaintance from the wedding. Ron would continue to manage the shop itself, while Dudley ran the Warehouse and deliveries to the shops as well as the mail orders, so they would be working closely together. They all visited Eeylops breeding centre behind the shop in Diagon Alley, where they picked out a peck of forty Owls ready for the mail order service. Once paid for, the Owls all flew to Hogsmeade, where they would settle in the Owlery in the warehouse, ready for the grand opening of the service in a few days time. All in all both of the Weasley's and Dudley were pleased to be working together, now they were looking forward to the opening as well as ensuring they were ready for it. The flat above the shop that Dudley would be living in was ready for him to move into, he and Maria would spend the next few evenings preparing it, before returning to Grimmauld Place to eat before she went home, apart from a few occasions when she stayed over. He would not be the first Muggle to live in the village it seemed, although Aberforth had told him he was the first in many centuries, when George had taken him to meet the man. He told them it was known the last ones to live here had been Cordwainer's in the founders time, but it was not known who they were or what had happened to them in the end.

Petunia was spending her morning in the library, working on the lesson plans and reading Ginny's Hogwarts a History, amongst other books she had asked for, quite enjoying watching the books float down to where she was working. She had quickly realised she needed to have more knowledge of the Wizarding world in order to teach the students about the Muggle one, they would need frames of reference both she and they could understand. She was still a bit emotionally fragile after her breakdown of the day before, after so many years living with a man who had not allowed her, her own choices in life and living her life to his expectations she was not used to being forgiven as Harry had done. At least not without having to adjust her own life, in order to live up to stricter values. Certainly Vernon had enforced his ideals of normality by forgiving only at a price, she had become so used to it that she couldn't remember that last time she had acted against his wishes in any meaningful way, not until she had left with Dudley to go to her nephews wedding at least.

Life in this house, Harry's house, was so different for her. Even in the short time she had been here she had be amazed by how different things were amongst these people, looking back she could quite see why her sister had preferred the company of Witches and Wizards, when she compared their behaviour to her own towards them in the past. Harry's acceptance of her, his families acceptance of her, even those who weren't strictly family like Minerva, Kingsley and Andromeda had unconditionally welcomed her as a valuable part of their circle. Such unconditional acceptance by others was not something she had experienced since childhood, she was not used to it any more. Part way through the morning, Andromeda with Teddy arrived, she had asked the older Witch about books available to the students. As a result and without question Andromeda had gladly taken her to Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley so she could see what they had available for her to use in class that the students could access. Petunia then took them to a Muggle bookshop to pick out some Muggle fiction books about witch craft so the students could compare them with Wizarding fiction about Muggles, they both saw how this would clearly demonstrate the misunderstandings of one about the other. The two women had a fantastic time and Teddy enjoyed the fuss he got from the two women, he had changed his hair colour to match hers when she had picked him up while Andromeda dealt with their purchases in the magical shop. She had nearly broken down in tears when she saw it, she had been told what this act by the youngster meant and was moved by the simple sign of acceptance from her nephew's Godson. It was at that moment she realised her old life was really over, not just finished, but over, she really did have the chance now to start again, to make something worth while of her life as she had never had since she had been married. She had a future in a world still recovering from war, a future she was determined would be better than her past, where she could be herself to explore it. This was her new beginning, one she was not going to waste in petty ideas of what was normal. It was at that moment she began to remember her childhood nature, a nature which could also forgive, not lightly, but easily where needed. She saw that after a long absence, she had a true family again, just like she had, had as a child.

Harry and Ginny had started what was going to be a busy morning with her brother Bill, who had agreed, with Gringotts permission, to go through all the legal papers and sort them out. The bank had actually been pleased to let him help the couple, who had come to be among their most important customers. Once Harry had retrieved the appropriate parchments, he and Ginny left him in the drawing room to begin sorting through them all, he also gave them a statement of their holdings within Gringotts that had been prepared for them, including current value of stocks and holdings. He agreed to go through it with them later if needed, once he had a complete picture of what they had, including any holdings shown in the documents from the closet.

The couple left him to get on, they were expected at the Ministry today to have meetings with the departments they had inspected for the Minister, to review progress and continue the reformation work that was still developing. They, of course, had received reports from the departments, who had all continued to involve their staff in planning improvements. Some ideas had worked and other's had not, but where they had failed they were not simply dismissed as they would once have been, rather the reasons they had not worked were examined to understand why, when an idea had worked it was examined just as closely to see if further improvement could be made.

The mornings meetings had been simply to review things and did not take long, but the couple were pleased that the departments they considered to be theirs thought of this new way of working as a beginning, not an end, but foundations to build on, just as was intended. The first part, getting new ideas and trying them, may be over, but each department was working to ensure they did not simply rest on the laurels of what they had achieved. No longer were any of the departments happy to simply keep their heads down, now there was a growing pride in what they did and how they did it, a positive atmosphere, that was rapidly spreading throughout the entire Ministry.

The results of the work was already being felt, not just within the Ministry, but also by businesses and the public as well. Both sectors had noticed that the red tape was dealt with more efficiently, companies had licenses or permits processed quickly and accurately amongst all the myriad of things they dealt with the ministry over, all of which went more smoothly than before. The public noticed that queries were more readily answered, applications dealt with more efficiently they also noticed that the whole place felt less depressing and overwhelming or intimidating than before. The staff were also much happier, those who dealt directly with the public now had easy access to the answers to most things they would be asked, making frustration with the systems far less from theirs and the enquirers point of view. This all meant that there were fewer delays in dealings with the monolithic organisation than before, although by it's very size it was still somewhat cumbersome and certainly improvements could still be made. That said there was now a much more open ethos, which meant ay ideas to make things better did not take months, years or longer to implement.

Harry and Ginny knew their work was not over, but the growing optimism in the ministry encouraged them. They left the Ministry after the meetings concluded, arriving home in time for lunch after a busy morning.

In the afternoon Molly arrived with the Twins for their flying lesson, which Ginny started out giving them, as Harry had fallen asleep, he joined them once he woke up. Percy and Audrey arrived during the afternoon, they came up to the room to watch progress. It was Percy who eventually realised the time, the afternoon had flown by in more ways than one, they had been enjoying themselves so much they had not noticed the passage of time. They all came downstairs, just in time for Dudley and Maria's return to the house, the twins immediately ran to greet them and Teddy. Petunia and Andromeda were showing Molly the books they had managed to find ready for the class, she was especially interested in the Muggle ones on recent history.

Seeing that the three women would appreciate a little more time to look through their purchases, Dudley looked at the twins. "Well you two, how about we go for a ride in my car, just around the square a couple of times perhaps?" He offered, knowing it would cause excitement with the two, but also occupy them for a little while.

"Oh yes please." Delilah Exclaimed.

"May we, please Molly?" Begged Tarquin.

"I guess we have time." She smiled at Dudley gratefully. "Are you sure about this Dudley?"

"Of course, it's no problem, besides I did promise them a ride in it sometime." He smiled. "We won't be long, you coming Harry, you haven't had much of a go in it yet have you?"

"Not this time thanks Dud, why don't you take Maria with you though, it might be a good idea to have two of you with them this first time. Kreacher will operate the workshop entry for you, as soon as you are ready I'm sure." Harry Grinned.

"Oh yes please, that's a good idea, besides I've never been in a Muggle car." Maria said excitedly.

The four went down to the workshop where the car was garaged, for their short trip. Dudley took them round the square several times, much to the puzzlement of the few neighbours who were about watching as the car with three excited passengers circled the green. Realising they had attracted too much attention to return immediately to the workshop without causing a problem, Dudley took the car out into the Alley behind the row that had Number thirteen in it, stopped just out of sight of the green. Maria cast a notice me not charm on the car and he reversed back out then quickly drove to the parking place where they were able to re enter the workshop without arousing the notice of the neighbours.

The twins burst back into the room, very excited, not just by the twenty minute ride either.

"That was brilliant... "Tarquin started.

"... Your Workshop is so cool Harry..." Delilah burst out

"...So is Duds car, thanks Dud..." Tarquin added.

".. You are so lucky Maria, having a boy friend with his own Car." Delilah said seriously.

Maria laughed. " I know Delilah." She turned to hug Dudley. "Now I have ridden in your Car, I really am going to have to take you flying." She kissed him and the twins pulled faces.

"I'll remind you two of that when you start kissing people like that." Audrey laughed. "Not long to wait for that to start either."

"Oh there's no rush for them to start doing that." Molly said only half seriously. " Though from the look on their faces we won't have to worry about it any time soon anyway. Come on you two we had better get home, Arthur will be home soon."

Bill came into the room just after Molly and the twins left. "Well I'm done for today, I'll be back tomorrow, there's much more than we thought to go through and update. I should have more up to date company figures by the end of the day Harry and I can start looking at them in more detail see what's going on with them, see if there are any liabilities for you or if they are sound for you both."

"That's fine Bill, will it take long to sort out?"

"Well the Wizarding papers for businesses and properties are easy, we have the company records at Gringotts, I can check them at the same time as the papers in your vaults. It's the Muggle investments that will take time, it might take weeks to sort them out, I will need to have access to the papers about them while you are at Hogwarts, but we can talk about arranging for that tomorrow."

"Thanks Bill, don't worry we shall sort that out for you, we were expecting it to take some time to go through it all, there seemed to be an incredible amount of things in there. You look all in though, shall we leave going over what you brought until the morning?" Harry was grateful to his brother-in-law for his work.

"I would appreciate that, thanks Harry and thank Kreacher for me would you, he really looked after me. Well I had better be off, Fleur will wonder where I have got to if I'm not home soon." He waved as he stepped in to the Floo and left for Shell cottage.

Percy and Audrey stayed for Dinner, getting to know Petunia and Dudley, while catching up with Harry and Ginny. They both knew Maria from working at the Ministry, but conversation avoided work as much as possible, so as not to bore everyone. They left at the same time as Andromeda and Teddy, leaving the two couples and Petunia to relax at the end of the day.

* * *

The morning of the Quidditch match arrived to much anticipation in Number twelve, The Burrow and with the guest in Maria's parents home. Harry and Ginny took Petunia to the Burrow to collect the twins, they had Flooed to the house, but were to Apparate to the stadium. Andromeda and Teddy were coming too, she would get Petunia there as well, being more experienced at side along she had taken two people by apparition a number of times before. So it was safer that she took Petunia and Teddy, while Harry and Ginny took one of the twins each. Dudley had left Grimmauld place with Maria the day before to stay at her parents house as arranged and would be returning on Monday evening after he had been to the warehouse to continue the preparations.

Maria had spent the couple of nights before that at Grimmauld Place, in one of the rooms on Harry and Ginny's landing. In the last few days, Petunia had formally accepted the teaching post at Hogwarts when Kingsley and Minerva had visited them, Minerva had been delighted and went through the teaching plan with Petunia, who showed the headmistress the books she was planning on using. The two women discussed arrangements and set the curriculum for each year group, a copy of which they the sent to the ministry for the examination board's information. Kingsley was charged with asking the department of Mysteries to help ensure she would be safe in the school, while Petunia quizzed the headmistress about the school and for any tips she could use in the classroom.

Poppy had brought the potion for Dudley who would start taking it on his return to Grimmauld Place so he wasn't having to remember it whilst enjoying his weekend at Maria's. Bill had continued the work on the papers, they now had a complete, up to date, statement of what was held in the Potter's name at Gringotts itself and Bill had made a list of their other investments in the magical world, he was beginning to collate current performance reports on them all whilst still tracing most of the Muggle holdings. In the case of Grunnings, which it appeared the couple owned outright, he was investigating the company itself to see if anything appeared to be amiss, they knew at least one of the directors was capable of manipulating matters to his own advantage, so the audit was thought necessary. He had already discovered that although Vernon had insisted otherwise to his family, the company and therefore Harry owned the house on Privet drive. In fact, he owned several of the houses there and the land on which the estate the street was part of had been built, which gave him an income from them via the land rents on each plot, an income that had been syphoned off into an account in Vernon and Marge's names. This news was as much a surprise to Petunia as it was to the couple, she had always believed the house was her husbands, although she had known there was a small annual ground rent to pay she had not realised where it was going. When she heard about it, she had felt so guilty and even worse about how they had treated Harry in what had turned out to be his own house, she broke down in tears, apologising to him. Harry had reassured her that he didn't blame her, Vernon had clearly deceived them both for his own and it seemed Marge's reasons, he had asked her if she would help them to plan what to do with the house. Vernon had lived there rent free with his family for years, creaming off the ground rents from all the houses in the street and those surrounding it. Both grinned as Harry ordered that from now on a full market rent would be charged to him, if he wished to continue living there, although it would be back dated to include each year he had been resident. They would also be adding the total of the ground rents he had collected from him and Marge as well. Knowing Vernon, he would be furious, but there would be little he could do about it.

Even with all that going on, the most fun for them all was had on the now daily Quidditch training of the twins, who were almost naturals on Broomstick's. Each session they improved their skills, quickly settling into the Chaser roles by preference. The twins had visited Eli and Maggie every morning since they had moved into the Burrow, but after the first day, the news they brought back with them was becoming less and less positive. Eli was getting worse and Maggie had become ill as well, but still both the twins insisted they wanted to visit and the elderly couple certainly perked up when they arrived to share their news with them. Both Maggie and Eli insisted that the twins should go to the Quidditch match, even though it would mean a day not seeing them, they told the two that hearing about it the next day would more than make up for them not visiting that day, as far as they were concerned. They assured them they were not to worry about it, but to enjoy themselves. The twins had been torn, but today when Harry and Ginny arrived at the Burrow, they were simply excited about the game.

"Harry, Ginny, is it time yet?" The twins shouted as they stepped out of the fire.

"Not long now you two, not long." Smiled Harry.

"I think I'm getting used to that." Said Petunia indicating the fire they had just emerged from. "I'm not as giddy as last time. Hello Molly, how are you?"

"Hello Petunia, welcome back to the Burrow, I am well thank you, you certainly seem to be getting used to Floo travel." Molly greeted and hugged her.

"I think so and it is kind of you to say we can stay here tonight."

"Not at all, besides the Granger's are back tonight, they are coming over here for the day tomorrow too."

"Oh, that's Hermione's parents isn't it? They are Muggles too if I remember rightly, it will be good to talk to them about settling into this world." Petunia observed.

"I thought it might be." Molly said, grinning."Though they live in the village which is mostly Muggle, whilst you will be in an almost totally Wizarding community at Hogwarts."

Andromeda and Teddy were next in line for Molly's hug, Teddy smiling as the twins came over to greet them, but still reaching out for Ginny as she approached. They were soon all tucking into Bacon sandwiches and steaming mugs of tea, which Molly seemed to have produced without anyone noticing.

Once the food was finished and the drinks consumed, they went out into the yard to Apparate to the stadium, Portkeys were not available for the event due to the wards and the ministry had advised against the night bus as it would be very full. So they had decided to Apparate, even if that might have meant making several trips for some of them, thankfully it wouldn't be. The twins excitement grew as they held on to Harry and Ginny, ready to go. "Right you two settle for a moment and hold tight." Harry instructed, they did and a moment later they had all disappeared, followed by Andromeda, teddy and Petunia.

They arrived outside the teams entrance, a private area at the back of the stadium, which towered above them. Unlike the timber one at Hogwarts this was clearly built as a long lasting, permanent structure, protected by wards. The smooth stone walls stretched out on either side of them, curving away into the distance, looking up they could see flags fluttering in the breeze at the top. As arranged, Dudley and Maria were waiting for them there and they all greeted each other, then made their way to the ticket barrier that the tickets indicated they should enter by, where a queue was quickly shortening, it was not too long before the start of the match so most of the crowd was already inside. Ginny showed the attendant the tickets, he looked at them then at Harry and Ginny, slow recognition dawned on the attendants face. Harry groaned, he had hoped this could be a quiet outing, he hoped the attendant wouldn't start making a fuss.

"Ah Mr. And Mrs. Potter and party I was asked to keep an eye out for you, could you make your way to the second door, along from the main entrance to the stands, you will be met there." The attendant said quietly to them, ensuring only they could hear the instruction.

Harry and Ginny looked puzzled, but led the way to the door they had been told to go to, where an official was already waiting to greet them. "Ah, Welcome, welcome, I am glad that our attendant recognised you and that he remembered to ask you to meet me here. Please allow me to introduce myself, I am Filius Featherstone the owner of this team. When I was told you were coming as the guests of the Harpies, I insisted you should have a private box to watch the match, not least for your security. Are you all here? Good, if you would follow me please." He said shaking Harry's hand and had been relieved as Ginny had nodded in response to his question.

Mr. Featherstone turned and led them through the door just behind him, marked Private. Directors lounge. He guided them up a few flights of carpeted stairs and into a luxurious room. It was well furnished with comfortable chairs and sofa's, the walls adorned with moving pictures of their star players past and present. A large wooden board bore the names of the team captains, whilst next to it another listed the teams achievements throughout it's history along with team photo's. There was a well appointed bar at one end of the room, two uniformed stewards stood behind it waiting to serve drinks. A glass wall down one side divided the room from a wide covered balcony with a long row of comfortable looking seats over looking the pitch.

"The Directors are in the next door box for this game Mr. Potter, we agreed this would offer you more privacy than being in the stands with everyone else, although I do realise you will be spotted here and I am afraid that our announcer, Mr. Lee Jordan is likely to inform the crowd you are here, but at least you cannot be harassed. You may make use of the facilities as you wish, I understand the Minister is also attending with his partner, I hope you don't mind but, they will be joining you in this box."

"Not at all, that's fine. Kingsley is a good friend as is his partner and in fact Lee as well, as you may know. It wouldn't be the first time he has announced my presence at a Quidditch match and it is by far better that he announce that I'm here really. Better that than getting mobbed in the stands anyway, I must say Mr. Featherstone this is very generous of you and your directors, we weren't expecting this at all." Harry said.

"That's quite all right, it is our pleasure. I wonder if I could ask if you and your entire party would be so kind as to sign our VIP book at some point while you are here, just for our records. It is actually the third such book the club has needed since it was founded, all of which are kept in our archives, purely to record distinguished guests to our stadium." Mr. Featherstone indicated a book and quill on the table beneath the portraits."There are also complimentary programs and a set of Omnioculars for each of you in the pockets of the seats outside. Please accept them as our gifts to you, as souvenirs if you will, both teams have signed the programs for you as well. I shall need to return downstairs now, see if the Minister has arrived, I shall send him up to join you as soon as he does."

Mr Featherstone left to await Kingsley and they all signed the book before they forgot and were just getting drinks when Kingsley and Minerva arrived.

"Hi everyone." Called Kingsley.

The twins were suddenly quite shy when they saw Professor McGonagall, Minerva smiled. "Don't worry you two, I'm here to see the game just like you, not as your headmistress. Besides we have a fresh start between you and the school, don't we?"

"Yes Professor." They replied a little reassured.

They moved to the balcony with their drinks and sat ready for the game, which was due to start in a few minutes time. The stadium was smaller than the one used for the world cup, not such tall stands, although they were still quite high. The game was between two popular teams so the stadium was packed, the noise was incredible and atmosphere alive with the anticipation of what promised to be an exciting game. Although it had only been a couple of flights up to the box, they were sat high up above the pitch, far higher than those few flights of stairs would have indicated. Harry guessed that the stadium must be partly in a large hole in the ground, with the pitch at the bottom, so they were at about the same height as the goal hoops. The box was halfway along the pitch with an excellent view over the whole field. They were all looking round the ground with interest, ignoring the noise of the crowd as they waited for the game to start.

Harry showed the twins how the Omnioculars worked and they started scanning the crowd, seeing if they saw anyone they recognised. He saw Maria doing the same for Dudley, while Minerva showed Petunia. After a few minutes a voice sounded over the crowd, a voice that Harry easily recognised as that of Lee Jordan.

"Good afternoon Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to this afternoons match between Puddlemere United and the Holy Head Harpies, a game sponsored by Bertie Botts every flavour beans. I am Lee Jordan your commentator both here in the ground and, in a a few moments, broadcasting live across the country for the Wireless Wizarding Network. Before that though I am pleased to announce that in attendance today we are honoured to welcome Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Minerva McGonagall and we are delighted to welcome Harry and Ginny Potter with their guests to watch the match here in the stadium."

A great cheer rose from the crowd as the giant screen showed a picture of them all in the directors box. The picture soon faded as Lee continued and Harry muttered. "Revenge is sweet Lee." With a grin. "I can be patient for a while."

"I now welcome the listeners on the WWN who have just joined us, so Ladies and Gentlemen where ever you are, we are ready to begin. Without further ado, introducing your referee for this game Fizel Frederickson, with his two assistants, Bernadette Broadey and special guest assistant, world champion seeker Victor Krum, who is currently on a tour of Britain with the Romanian world championship team." Lee announced as the three walked onto the pitch carrying brooms and the assistants carrying the box with the balls onto the pitch, to applause a little more enthusiastic than was usual for the game officials, more than likely due to the presence of Krum.

He then paused for effect as a hush of expectation fell around the arena and all eyes turned towards the entrance tunnel. "And now Ladies and Gentlemen, the teams. First please welcome the home team, Puddlemere United."

A broad streak of blue and gold flew across the pitch then circled the stadium once as the Puddlemere fans went wild and the blue streak split as the team members settled into their starting positions and the cheerleaders to their place at the side of the pitch. Lee announced the name of each of the players as they took there positions above the pitch, while the team's cheer leaders spelt out the team name above, then settled at the side of the pitch.

"Now please welcome, led by their cheerleaders, those remarkable ladies in green, the Holy Head Harpies."

Green streaks came in from all directions around the stadium to meet in the centre of the pitch then explode out again towards the stands to form a circling procession around the pitch. It was the Harpies fans turn to erupt into riotous cheers as their team took their places and the cheerleaders spelt out Harpies above them, then went to the side of the pitch whilst Lee announced the names of the players as they took their places. The noise died down as the Captains shook hands then took their own starting positions. The referee glanced to his two assistants then kicked the box to release the Bludgers and snitch. After a moment he threw the Quaffle and jumped onto his broom, to shoot into the air, the box disappeared.

The noise rose again as a Puddlemere chaser caught the Quaffle and set off up the pitch the other chasers staying with him, the ball quickly being passed between them to avoid Bludgers and chasers from the Harpies as they rocketed up the pitch. A Harpies' chaser intercepted a pass and play returned in the other direction.

"Blimey Harry, this is fast." Said Dudley in amazement.

"It is Dud, so keep any replay's on the Omnioculars until afterwards if you don't want to miss any of it." Harry replied. "I learnt that at the world cup."

Maria laughed. "Don't worry Harry, I warned him."

"Good." Ginny agreed. "Delilah, Tarquin are you two enjoying it?"

She received no reply, so took a glance at the two, then grinned. The twins were simply following play, moving their heads to track the game, mouths open in amazement.

"Clearly you are." Ginny chuckled then returned to watching the game.

The players were little more than a blur as the Quaffle was passed from player to player and beaters intercepted Bludgers which changed direction almost too fast to follow. The two seekers circled high above the game watching for the snitch as the score see sawed between the two teams, neither, at first, gaining any real advantage over the other. Ten minutes into the game the Harpies' seeker suddenly changed direction and dove for the ground, the Puddlemere seeker quickly following.

"There go the seekers, looks like a race to the snitch already, though I can't see it myself yet. " Lee's voice conveying the excitement to the radio listeners as well as those in the ground..

The two seekers sped down, the Harpies' player just inches ahead of her rival, they were closing quickly with the ground, suddenly the Harpies' player pulled up again, just before she hit the ground. The other seeker, too slow to react ploughed into the turf of the pitch with a thud and rolled several times across the grass, his broom embedded in the earth where he had hit the pitch, before he came to rest, spread Eagle on the pitch. The crowd was silent, even Lee spoke in a whisper, albeit still magnified over the ground, the seeker unmoving as the Puddlemere captain called for a time out. The trainer shot out from a dugout at the side of the pitch, bag in hand, rushing to treat the player, which gave the Harpies a chance to gather to talk tactic's, while the Puddlemere players gathered round the injured seeker.

"That was an incredible feint by the Harpies' seeker who had been closely tailed by her Puddlemere counterpart since the start of the game. For the third game running this season he fell for the same trick, having used the shadowing tactic often favoured by seekers this season, rather than looking for the snitch himself. Lets hope he is all right, the Puddlemere trainer is with him now, though of course only spells sufficient to heal him enough to be able to continue are permitted before the end of the match. If that is not possible then a substitution is permitted, in which case we shall see the debut of the reserve seeker to a league match." Lee announced, his commentary had hardly been audible over the roar of the crowd for much of the game.

"What happens to him if he can't continue." Dudley asked.

"Well as Lee says, they can make a substitution if it's too bad, which would mean he could receive any medical attention needed, but that is only likely to happen if there are life threatening injuries, or is unconscious. That said, I have seen players just carry on after a fall like that and worse." Harry replied.

The twins were on the edge of there seats.

"This is fantastic." Tarquin said excitedly. "I would love to play as well as that."

"Well keep practising and you might." Said Ginny. "Let's see if you can make it onto your house team first."

Delilah was just as excited replaying parts of the game with her Omnioculars occasional making exclamations of delight at what she saw.

Petunia was wide eyed. "I'm getting totally lost with it all. Harry did you say you used to play this for your house team at school?"

"He was the youngest seeker in a hundred years when he started." Minerva told her proudly. "Joined the team in his first year, Ginny played too, both of them very talented players. In fact either of them could quite easily have become professional players, at least that's certainly what the agents scouts repeatedly said to us over the years."

"What about injuries, it looks so easy to get hurt." Petunia was wide eyed.

"Oh, I think it is true to say I had my fair share of injuries." Harry said with a smile, ruefully running his hand through his hair. "I think Poppy had a bed reserved for me in the hospital wing, not just after Quidditch either.

"Come on mum." Dudley added. "I played Rugby and was school Boxing champion, both of those sports can cause pretty serious injuries too. Although this is much faster, I would think the risk is similar." He said to reassure her, though he doubted his words he didn't want her upset by it.

"I guess so." Said Petunia.

The injured player was stretchered off, the substitute was announced, with great anticipation for his first league match and the game resumed. The balance of the game had changed Puddlemere, shaken by the loss of the seeker from the game and the substitute's inexperience, began to make mistake after mistake. Their Keeper only just avoided a Bludger miss hit by their own Beater, the chasers lost the Quaffle, easily, again and again. The Harpies, in contrast, continued to work well as a team and were soon a hundred points ahead. Puddlemere's only hope was for their reserve Seeker to catch the snitch, it seemed. Although with that players inexperience and having been thrust into a game he was not expecting to be his debut, that seemed unlikely, it was perfectly possible. However as the Harpies gained the Quaffle once more, it was their Seeker who dived again, fast.

"Good God she's shifting." Shouted Dudley

"She's seen the snitch this time." Delilah screamed with excitement, as Puddlemere's Seeker began to race Hollyhead's.

The two Seekers were rocketing to the ground when the Harpies' Seeker suddenly changed direction as the Snitch moved, she was skimming the grass. She had almost reached the stands when suddenly she rose back into the air her arm aloft, the small winged ball in her hand. The Puddlemere Seeker, responded too slowly and ploughed into the stand as the game ended.

Petunia was again horrified at what had happened and watched whilst the healers crowded round the injured Seeker and carried him away on a stretcher a few minutes later. The Harpies' fans were going wild at the victory, which had pushed their team up to second in the league, they were due to play the league leaders next.

"Petunia don't worry." Kingsley reassured her "It might be the first time he has done it in a match, it's the fifth time he's done it this season including the four times in training. He and the other seeker he replaced have both done it to each other when practising, going by those occasions he will be fine after a night in St Mungo's at the most."

"But, how on earth can you say that, it looked awful." Petunia was white faced. "The poor boy, he must have broken several bones at least."

"It's probably not as serious as it might be in the Muggle world Aunt, you needn't worry too much. I broke all the bones in one arm in a match once, ended up losing them completely at the end of the game, really odd feeling having an arm with no bones in it, but that is a slightly different story. I still caught the snitch to win the game, then was taken to the hospital wing and was right as rain the next day. We have some marvellous healers like Poppy who, with the Skele-gro potion, can heal and regrow bones very quickly." Harry assured her.

She looked up at him questioningly, eyes wide.

"I'll tell you the whole story later." He smiled.

Mr. Featherstone entered the box. "Well that was an interesting game, if a bit short, did you all enjoy it?"

"It was brilliant." Shouted the twins in excitement.

Mr. Featherstone laughed. "Good I am pleased."

"Is there any news of those poor Seekers?" Asked Petunia.

"The healers are with them now, a few broken bones that's all I understand. Tell you what, if you're not in a rush to go home, I'll take you to see them. In fact both teams would like to meet you all, if you don't mind."

The twins looked at Harry. "Please Harry!" They pleaded.

Harry laughed. "All right you two, I think that will be fine."

* * *

Mr. Featherstone led the way from the box, through a door behind the bar and down to the dressing rooms, where the noise of the Harpies celebrating could be clearly heard. He knocked on their door first, the Harpies' manager opened it enough to peer out to see who was there, recognising the group she smiled and turned back to the room. "Harpies." She called loudly, then as quiet fell in the room spoke at a normal volume. " Best behaviour girls, we have visitors." She then opened the door fully.

The noise died down as she waved them in and the team lined up, to greet their visitors, they had been celebrating their win, so none had yet started to get changed. They were introduced to Harry and the others in turn, as the group came in. The twins were wide eyed as they met the players, who they just had been watching zoom around the pitch. They were not so awe struck that it stopped them talking excitedly with the players, whilst the others talked tactics and league news with the team. Harry was watching the twins, it was hard to believe that these two lively children, so full of life now, were the same as the two he had taught last year and he was glad of it.

Two of the chasers, had snuck off to get changed quickly once they heard the twins preferred playing positions, then just before the group left they gave the twins their team robes as souvenirs. Dudley and Petunia were given the seekers robes and the third chaser robes, respectively while Teddy received the game snitch in a box, his eyes wide he changed his hair to the team colours raising laughter from the team. The manager took a picture of them all with the team, promising to send copies to them, before after half an hour visiting with them, they left to visit the Puddlemere team.

The atmosphere in this dressing room was understandably calmer than it had been in the Harpies room, but still the players and trainers were pleased to see the group. The players had got changed, so were no longer in their uniforms, but were all there still. Petunia asked about the two seekers who had been injured and was told they were fine, they were led into an area at the back where the two players were being attended to. Petunia was amazed that already the two were almost healed and happily chatted to her. She was shown the Skele-gro potion and assured that they would be fixed up by the next morning. More photo's were taken and gifts were given out from the team.

After another half hour, as they left the room a door further down the corridor opened and a familiar head popped out.

"Harry, it is good to see you I heard you were here." Victor smiled.

"Hello Victor, how are you after officiating that game?" Harry said walking over to his friend, who he had beaten in the Triwizard tournament. "Everyone this is Victor Krum, Seeker for the current world champions, fellow Triwizard champion and friend."

Victor shook hands with everyone as Harry introduced them individually.

"It's good to see you Harry, I didn't get much chance to talk to you at the wedding, I hope we can catch up soon. Anyway I wanted to catch you today after I heard you were here, if I could. You may know that we, the Bulgarian team, are touring the country ahead of the next world cup, playing exhibition matches, that kind of thing. We would like to add one more match to the schedule, it is all very well playing these professional teams, but we would like to spend some time sharing our skills with the next generation of teachers. I was wondering who had replaced Dumbledore at Hogwarts, see if we can arrange to play there?"

"I am the Headmistress now Victor." Minerva answered. "I have to say your suggestion is certainly intriguing and of course, it would be good to see you at the school again, but I will need to sort out the practicalities. When were you thinking of doing this and with who?"

"Well we have thought of playing the England team, but no grounds are available. We leave for our domestic season at the end of September so it ideally would be the weekend before. We would be pleased to offer the house teams the chance to train with us, during the week before."

"What do you think Minerva?" Said Kingsley. "It could be good for the students."

"Yes. Well Mr. Krum ask your manager to get in touch with me and we shall talk about the arrangements. I am sure our new sports Mistress will be pleased to have your assistance with the first years as they begin their flying lessons and am certain many others would be keen to have a chance to learn from you all as well."

Victors looked puzzled until Ginny smiled. "Of course I would Victor, it would mean we could teach them all in one session, perhaps at the start of the week, then perhaps arrange lessons for others and maybe training sessions with the house teams."

"You are teaching at Hogwarts too Ginny?" Victor smiled "Two Professors Potter, that will cause more confusion than Peeves with the first years' won't it?"

"That's what we are hoping." Laughed Minerva.

They chatted with Victor for a few more minutes, then Mr. Featherstone took them on to the pitch. The stadium was almost empty by now, a few staff tidying up was all that was and the two teams, now all changed into their team travelling robes, joined them for one last photo.

"Who fancies a quick knock about." Called Mr. Featherstone grinning.

The twins were keen, as players from both teams produced brooms. Victor, Harry and Ginny joined in as did Maria and for fifteen minutes they had an impromptu training session. Both team managers were impressed with Harry and Ginny.

Victor looked at Harry "I knew your reputation as a seeker my friend, but I didn't realise you were that good, you could easily make a team if you wanted. If you ever turn professional, I hope we play against each other, it would be close between us."

Harry blushed, "Thanks Victor, but apart from training with the twins, that's only the second time I've been over a pitch since my sixth year at Hogwarts and I'm not likely to go professional, much as I enjoy playing."

"That's a shame my friend, I hope you change your mind, if you are that good with so little training then you are a natural." Victor grinned.

The chasers were impressed with the twins.

"How long have you been flying?" One of them asked.

"Well we learnt at school last year, but it wasn't until Harry and Ginny taught us last Monday that we really got the hang of it." Said Delilah.

"What? Only a week, but that is amazing, especially for your age." Said another. "You two and Ginny, who we know plays brilliantly, would make a formidable team of chasers. Promise us you will keep practising, if you make your house team I think it safe to say we shall be coming to watch you play. Ginny, I know you are having another year at Hogwarts, albeit teaching, but you make a hell of a chaser. "

"I'm more of a seeker though, like Harry." Ginny smiled. "But, I have played both. I agree about these two though I think they are naturals too. I am glad it's not just me, they will be a real asset to their house team."

Soon it was time to go, Mr. Featherstone said it was fine to Apparate from the pitch, a crowd of fans were outside waiting to see if they could spot Harry leaving. He temporarily lifted the anti apparition charm, as the group said their goodbyes to everyone then left for the Burrow, it had been a fantastic day.

Molly was waiting in the kitchen when they returned, Kingsley and Minerva, who had helped side along those who needed it from the ground, had gone directly home from the yard, Dudley and Maria had returned to her house for the rest of the weekend. She was looking grim as she welcomed them trying to be excited for the twins as they showed her the gifts and told her about the game. The others knew she had something to tell the two youngsters and it wasn't good, but she let them have their moment until she had to say whatever it was. As the twins slowly fell silent, she knelt in front of them.

"I'm glad you have had a good time dears, but I'm afraid we are going to have to go to St. Mungo's. Eli has taken a turn for the worse, I'm sorry to say. We must go and be with Maggie."

"Yes, of course we must." Said Tarquin calming down instantly.

"Molly, Eli's dying isn't he?" Delilah asked, tears appearing in her eyes.

"I'm very much afraid it looks like it my dear." Molly answered honestly, wiping the tears from the young girls face." And Maggie is not doing well either, but I know seeing you and hearing about your day will make a world of difference to them. Come on my dears let's go cheer them up, tell them about your day show them what you got." She coaxed. "They really will be so pleased, I am sure."

The three made their way to the fire place, Harry called. "You two don't worry we'll still be here when you get back."

"I'll see to the dinner mum." Ginny called.

Molly and the twins Flooed away.

"Oh god, those two have been through enough." Said Harry, sagging into a seat.

"Harry don't worry." Said Andromeda. "With you two and Molly they will be fine. It's Maggie I'm worried about, I think if Eli dies she will never get well. They have been together so long I think she will lose the will to live."

"I know." He said "And then we need to worry about the twins and what happens with them again, they need to be settled."

It was almost dark when Molly returned with very tearful twins, Eli had died an hour after they had arrived. He had perked up for the twins, but was obviously very weak. Maggie was in the bed next to him very ill, the healers didn't know why, but they quietly told Molly that they thought Maggie had given up the will to live, so was dying as well, they couldn't find any other explanation.

The twins ran to Harry and Ginny weeping, the couple cuddled them as the grief of the pair took them over. Teddy came over and cuddled the leg of each twin in turn then sat between the four of them, gently patting the twins, just as he had his parents graves on the first anniversary of their death.

Andromeda went to Molly and hugged her. "You all right my dear, shall I go tell the Granger's tonight's off?"

"Oh goodness I had forgotten about them, how awful. No, they will be here in a minute, I promised them so they didn't need to worry about cooking after their journey, lets keep the arrangement as agreed. Arthur should be back with Ron and Hermione soon too, so it won't be a problem." She said. "I think the twins could use the distraction anyway. The funeral is not going to happen yet, not until Maggie is well enough to attend it, or passes on herself, it will be at Hogsmeade when the time comes."

Molly, Andromeda and Petunia busied themselves in the kitchen, while Harry, Ginny and Teddy comforted the twins.

* * *

 **10th Century:**

The noise and activity in the filth strewn streets of Jorvik quietened as he passed by the stalls in front of each of the narrow houses on the wide road to the Cathedral. The populace parted and trade ceased ahead of his entourage, he was their King, but rarely travelled within the City if he could help it. Certainly he would traverse the road that led out of it, whenever he went hunting, although those trips had grown less frequent than they had been, so the sight of him in the streets was an event to those who lived there. Despite the filth and mud that covered the ground thickly, those they passed in the street fell to their knee in the mud and debris rotting on the ground, in deference to the passing of the King. Children, too young to know better, looked on wide eyed. starring at the flying banners, glittering swords and mail of the colourful group on horse back, riding past their homes. Any men bearing swords or weapons held their arms out in supplication as they knelt, hands well away from the weapon, demonstrating they were no threat to the King or his entourage. The stench of the City filled the Kings nostrils despite the Nosegay of aromatic herbs wrapped in cloth he wore round his neck, the horses hooves disturbing the rotting detritus of the street. The herbs sweet scent, so effective in the quantity used around his palace, overwhelmed by the less than pleasant fragrances of fish, freshly butchered meat, animals, rotting waste and cess pits.

The stalls held no interest for the King, beyond the taxes he could charge each one. Why should he be interested in what they sold, he had slaves and servants to obtain whatever he or his household needed and desired. Even before he had become King, when his brother had ruled, his position negated his need to be bothered with day to day trading in such streets. His son had not entered the streets of the city until the day they had moved into the Palace, before that he had resided in another remnant of Roman construction within the City walls. That had been the day of his coronation, when the whole family had been expected to parade through the streets in front of all citizens, it had literally been a show, it had been required, so that every member of the populace had the chance to see them and could recognise them.

That had been an ordeal, crossing the width of the City from the southern gate to the northern, before entering the Cathedral for a long arduous service, in which Archbishop Hrothweard had preached an interminable sermon for over two hours on duty and faith. Afterwards they had again entered the streets of the city, processing once more, but this time from Western gate to the Eastern, then to the Palace itself. This journey through the streets, by contrast, was thankfully short and direct, when compared to that one five years ago, but it was still one Styr would rather not have been forced to make and only did so on the few occasions he was required to. The Archbishop's Palace was behind the large wooden Cathedral at the opposite end of this broad street from the royal palace. The vast church was built on the ruins of the old Roman seat of power, the highest point in the City and could be seen above the walls from several miles away. The large rectangular church towered over the city, dominating it, a symbol of power built in a symbolic place, signifying the churches dominance of the city, a potent warning to non believers and believers alike. The Archbishop's palace itself was in the much rebuilt and patched ancient barrack rooms behind the Cathedral, their size and preservation second only to the buildings that now formed his own Palace.

On departing from his own palace King Styr had passed through the ancient Roman city wall, now with houses built against it. Much of the old defence still stood although much lower than it once had been, as the city had overwhelmed it, expanding outside it's protection. Stone from it and many of the buildings was still taken to repair still used buildings or pave areas in important new structures, such as the floor of his own Palace, or even in the cathedral itself. It's usefulness for protecting what had once been a fine, ornate city was over the moment that those with the knowledge to maintain it had left, a new rampart now surrounded the new, much larger city. The Kings thoughts were far from the sights his capital offered though, he rode along the street offering the most direct route, knowing the Archbishop would expect them to take the more customary, longer, route through the vicars choral he was establishing at Bedern, to the East of the Cathedral, past the homes for the lowly priests. Drawing ever nearer to their destination, he was still contemplating how he would handle the meeting he had been summoned to, in the home of the only man in the City who was his equal, at least in status.

His procession passed to the south side of the Cathedral, it's white washed walls towering above them to the expanse of thatch on it's roof, where many of the Christians of the city gathered every seventh day along with the other churches within his capital. Styr hated the place, which crawled with sly, black cloaked clergy, leeches on his City in his opinion, though he could not let that be known of course. A priest came to his Palace on that same day, each week, to conduct a service for his family in a room that had been designated a chapel, he had to keep up appearances and maintain his pretence of loyalty to the church. Sure enough, as they rounded the Western end of the building into the open area between Cathedral and Archbishops Palace where his favoured clergy lived and worked doing whatever they did during the other six days, the King saw that the place crawled with priests, like flies round a cess pit. Styr smiled at how apt his comparison seemed, when those closest to them, scattered at their approach, fleeing like a swarm flies,joining those further away who paused to simply gaze at them as they passed.

They arrived at the gates to the Archbishops' palace, which were adjacent to the west end of the cathedral and guarded the Palace which lay on the north of it. They were dutifully greeted by one of the Archbishop's favoured Gods spokesmen, as usual the priests clothing looked poor and distressed, though the King knew the priests and the church were far more wealthy than they displayed to their followers, especially those those in the regard of their chief. He shuddered with revulsion as he dismounted, the place had far too many clergy for Styr's liking or comfort, he followed the priest who led them into the stone and timber building directly to Hrothweard's chambers. They entered the dimly lit room, where the Archbishop sat in front of one of the windows, at a desk where he was scribbling away in a book. He ignored the new arrivals, standing at the other end of the comfortable room as he continued with his work on his heavily carved desk. Styr followed protocol and waited until the stout, balding man looked up from his work on the table.

" Ah, you have arrived King Styr, please leave your sword with my assistant, you will have no need of it here." The Archbishop instructed, not rising from his seat.

Styr grudgingly removed his sword, the senior priest's lack of courtesy to the King was another thing that annoyed him, but he knew he had to put up with. He handed his sword to the priest who had led them in, the priest held it carefully and left the room, Styr subtly checked that his wand was still concealed in his Slieve, he would only need to have skin contact with it in order to defend himself if Hrothweard's words proved false. Hrothweard poured two goblets of imported wine and indicated for Styr to sit opposite him, placing a golden cup before the King. then sitting back in his seat, nursing his own chalice, carefully watching the King from behind the ornately decorated desk.

Apart from the desk, one side of the room was full of shelves, which came out from the wall on either side of the windows creating a series of alcoves between them, each containing stacks of parchments and books, all of which the King knew had been written and decorated by hand by the monks and priests, they were presumably records of importance to the church. The opposite wall was Roman and covered with painted plaster, depicting naked men wrestling and similarly finished nubile women carrying jugs of wine and platers of food. Hrothweard's throne like chair was covered with a thick white fur, the candle sticks and ink pot were silver, a large secure chest was just visible behind the chair, presumably full of silver. All were signs of wealth, even the documents he wrote on were of expensive paper, rather than the cheaper parchment usually used by those who could write, usually the priests or those of noble birth. A bowl full of pepper corns was positioned, apparently carelessly, but prominently on the table, the number of corns was impressive, the rare spice being a sign of great wealth, they were more valuable than their weight in gold. The small metal bowl, a further blatant show of wealth, intended to be intimidating, was not lost on Styr, though he was care full that he showed no outward sign of having noticed any of it.

Conversation started, as custom dictated, with polite pleasantry's, enquiries of the well being of each others families, the weather and comments on the level of trade in the City. Though both men knew very well how the others' wife and children fared and the state of trade, the exchange was essential to maintain the proper protocol before the main subject was introduced. The Archbishop commented on the fact the King had not arrived via the usual route through Bedern, the King inwardly smirked, the fact it had been mentioned demonstrated that not coming that way had irked the priest. He knew why Hrothweard was annoyed and could not care less, in fact he was quite satisfied that it had, it. It confirmed what he had known, if they had come by the route through Bedern, then the Archbishop would have received warning of his arrival long before he had arrived at the gate. Which was why he had come the more direct route, giving the man less time to be ready for their arrival, reducing the church man's advantage over him, though of course he simply nodded understanding in response to the query and replied. "Your messenger gave the impression that the matter you wished to discuss was urgent in nature and it is not often that you have need to summon me, so we came via the most direct route."

The Archbishop did not respond, the preliminaries were over, it was up to him to raise the reason for this meeting. The Archbishop fixed the King he had created with piercing eyes." I have received a message of greetings today from our allies in Wessex and Mercia, your Majesty." The archbishop stated simply.

So this was it, this was the reason the summons had been issued. His rival for the throne of Englaland yet again required something from him and the church was to ensure that he provided it. Styr knew the methods of the cunning Archbishop and his sly church, he had experienced them for himself, both to his benefit and his detriment. The message must contain more than just greetings for him not to merely send the news by messenger to the Royal palace, otherwise it would not be worth the time and trouble he had gone to, to get him here. Styr's reply was measured and he schooled his appearance so it gave away nothing, except interested curiosity. "All is well for them I trust?" He was tempted to probe the man's mind, but decided to wait to see if he needed to first, the Archbishops next words would dictate that.

"God continues to favour them in most matters my King, the lord pours his blessings on his faithful followers there. Praise be to our lord." The Archbishop responded with fervour. "They are also pleased matters have settled here in the North, of course, though they understand our problems with the Scots."

Most matters? That confirmed it in the Kings mind, his rival needed something and expected Northumbria to provide it without question. The church was to ensure they got it, the barbed comment about the Scots demonstrated the Church thought his efforts regarding them was inadequate. It was a challenge that the Earslings in the south knew he could not let pass without admitting it to be true. "Problems with the Scot's? They have been quiet the last three summers, a few insignificant raids into our far northern territory of no consequence, is all they trouble us now."

"They will be gratified to hear it, my Lord, most gratified indeed. That being so, we have no reason to withhold aid from our allies in the south should they need it then?"

Styr realised where this was heading instantly, Hrothweard knew they had no real battle to fight, all was obviously not so well in the south as had been stated, yet he had to appear eager to help. "I would be willing to send what help we can spare, if called upon, so long as we can continue to defend our boundaries effectively of course. Though to do so would limit the number of swords we can send lord Archbishop, we must ensure the safety of our churches country when required to do so, we must protect the faithful." Styr could not risk splitting his concentration now, he needed to be on his guard.

"But, have you not just told me our border to the north is quiet, the west beyond the Pennines is ours anyway so has not been a threat in living memory, we have not been threatened at any of our coasts for decades and there is no threat from the south. I can see no good reason for us to withhold men, none. The call has come for us to aid our allies, the Welsh have revolted once again and Wessex requires our aid in quashing the threat to both our lands and to the church from them once and for all, I must insist that we send it most urgently."

"Of course Lord Archbishop, we can send perhaps one hundred men and a few tacticians to aid them, along with perhaps twice that number of weapons and shields. To send more would leave our coast and northern borders a tempting vulnerability to our enemies once they learnt of it."

"No my King, we must send a decisive force, show we will support our allies in their hour of need. The Welsh may claim to be Christian, but they act against the church in our lands so must be brought to heal once and for all. Wessex and Mercia ask that we raise the Fyrd and so we must."

"Impossible, should the Scots decide to attack, or should some Norwegian or Danish King decide to go Viking, we shall need the Fyrd to prevent the heathen taking our lands for their own. It is also very late in the season, harvest fast approaches. If we call the men to serve on the Fyrd now, we shall lose the crops, they will rot in the fields this Winter, instead of feeding us all, many will starve. It will take time to gather the men and travel to the Welsh border, by the time we arrive there Winter will be with us, we shall have no shelter, lose many men to the weather, more shall become ill and need time to recover, unable to return home until late spring. That would be far too late for the land to be prepared, for seeds to be sown for next harvest, if they can be found given the loss of this years crop. What you ask will cause us all two years of starvation and cause a high rate of deaths. With the resulting fall in the productive population, reducing productivity so we shall have less to trade with others, low trade will mean low taxes to pay for the recovery of our people and for the church. Two years of vulnerability, followed by several more years of recovery and privations for us all, not just the peasants, but us as well Archbishop. Far better to have the men gather in the spring, once the crops are sown, the welsh will not attack again until then now anyway."

Dismissing the concerns of the King, knowing the church could weather the storm he described without difficulty, Hrothweard replied. "If we do not send our Fyrd now then our church will lose lands to the Welsh, not to mention the income from them, we cannot refuse or delay without also losing our allies in the south. We must call the Fyrd and you must lead them where the King of Wessex commands. Of course if you cannot raise the Fyrd to aid our allies then they are not compelled to aid you should the Scots invade, as unlikely as that is. Of course we must continue to defend our cities, perhaps a garrison of say a hundred and fifty at Dunholm, perhaps fifty at Onripum and two hundred to remain here whilst you proudly lead our Fyrd. I shall even give you the Churches garrison here to protect this City, freeing your own men so they may go with you" Hrothweard finished benevolently.

The King knew he had little choice, but to comply with what the Archbishop demanded, if his ambitions were to be fulfilled. His own plans were not yet fully formed, he was trapped, for now at least. He needed time, he would summon the Fyrd, but in his own way and time. He would have to buy himself what he needed to plan his next step, while appearing to fully co operate with the order cloaked as a request. "Very well, I shall make what arrangements we can, Lord Archbishop."

"Excellent, I shall begin organising a service in order to bless your endeavour before you leave, as well as appoint the clergy who will go with you to ensure the sanctity of the souls of the men and of yourself, of course, your majesty. My thanks for your attendance here my King, I have nothing further to discuss with you at the moment." The Archbishop dismissed him, having got what his church wanted and to stem any further discussion.

Styr was furious, as they made their way back through the streets. He knew he had been trapped by the wily Archbishop, perhaps he had given himself some wiggle room, but he should not have needed to make it at all. Once again he was expected to send the fittest men to aid the south simply because the church demanded it, leaving his own kingdom vulnerable and with avoidable longer term difficulties, just as they were recovering from the effects of the last time this call had come. This would be the third time he had been required to send men to deal with Wessex's problem in what had once been the Kingdom of Mercia in the few years since he had taken the throne. Mercia was now ruled by Wessex, Northumbria being the only other Kingdom in Englaland now, it was now the smaller of the two left in the country. On the previous two occasions they had simply guarded the boundary, whilst Wessex's own, much larger Fyrd, had stayed at home. Both times they had spent weeks watching as traders passed through the boundary, there had been not one sign of any trouble at all, his men had grown restless and bored whilst his rivals men built their wealth with their families. The Fyrd of Northumbria was thousands of men, whereas his rival could call on at least double the number, after all he had the men of three Kingdoms to draw on, while he had just one, which was sparsely populated in places, especially on the west of the Pennines. Add to that the arrogance of the archbishop on these occasions always annoyed him, but it was the loss of his Fyrd, for what was probably no reason again, that angered him the most.

They arrived at his Palace and he dismounted, thinking about what he could do to regain control of the situation despite his anger. He knew it would take at least a week for riders to issue the summons across the whole of Northumbria and twice as long, at best, for those in the far north and west to arrive. His summons would be delivered to each of his Lords in their own communities, who would then issue a further order to gather every man between the ages of Twelve and Twenty Five years who was either sworn to him or a tenant. The King would need to gather provisions to feed them all, gather wagons and horse to transport those goods from across the country as well as within the city. Provide weapons for those without and shields for all of them, many of the wives of those men would also come with their children, to do the cooking and once at the battle field, care for the wounded, not to mention help gather anything of value from the dead afterwards. He would also need to make provision for any prisoners, should any be taken.

All this could not be done until he knew how many would come, but he knew it would cost him a fortune, the church would not help, they would not even pay to feed the priests they would force on him, he had to do that. So long as the Church swelled it's own coffer's that's all that mattered to the clergy, they certainly would not waste it paying for themselves or towards the costs of the Fyrd. The entire cost was down to the Royal treasury, including provisions for the non combatants who accompanied the Fyrd. The people were after all abandoning their own trades to fulfil their duty, but it was supposed to be in defence of their own country, not someone else's. This would cost him dearly, it could even empty his treasury, which would take years to replenish as tax income fell, there was little chance of any plunder from a defeated army on this occasion. All because that worthless Muggle King and his vast army either wouldn't, or couldn't, keep the welsh under control. Why had Styr's own spies in Wessex and Mercia not told him of any trouble, if it existed at all?

He had many spies in the south, some even in his rivals council, all were magical and he had their oaths, not just Muggle oaths either which could be broken despite the moral obligation they brought, but Magical ones, which could result in the death of any who broke one, loss of magic at the least. He received regular reports from each of them every few weeks using charmed birds, especially enchanted Owls or birds of prey, to carry the messages, none had reported any activity on the borders. Those wizards in his own palace, having the advantage over the muggles, regularly discovered the Archbishops and the King of Wessex spies in his court. Upon discovery they were quietly kept under control, only being allowed to hear what he wanted them to report back, which avoided their discovery being revealed unnecessarily. The King had much to consider, but had to act quickly, he must be seen to be doing as much as he could to follow the Churches directive, if only to ensure it was reported back by the spies in his household.

He sent out messengers later that day, very loudly and very publicly, ensuring that everyone in the City would know what had happened by sunset. As he had planned word quickly spread throughout the city that he had sent the order to gather the Fyrd, just as he had intended, knowing it would reach the Archbishop and keep him quiet about it. Not all was as it had seemed to the populace of the City, or even to those in his household, the messengers each had their own instructions, some regarding the Fyrd, but others had missions to his own requirements. He needed to find out what was going on, not only to quietly discover the truth about the south, but also to discover the whereabouts of the school his old Master had taken him too. His only clues had been the mountains he had seen across the lake from the steps of the building, they were already snow capped meaning either Wales or more likely, the northern land of the Scot's, if it were on these islands at all. He knew he was juggling too many different problems, but he hoped he could gain sufficient information quickly to settle at least one of them permanently and to be able to settle the other in the near future.

* * *

Erik had, of course, been quite correct in his view. To say that Salazar Slytherin had not been pleased with the activation of the Creaftas latest addition of the castle infrastructure, would be an under statement. In fact he was as furious as Gryffindor had been amused to see the staircases shifting randomly, changing routes to suit themselves. Godric had found the whole thing hilarious, he took a perverse glee in leaping on to a flight of stairs just as it began to move, running to the end that was swinging across the space and taking a ride on them, before leaping to another. The other two founders simply smiled indulgently, shaking their heads at the contrasting behaviour of their male colleagues, resigned to the inevitable. The students initially tried to find which flight now took them where they needed to go, but soon gave that up as it was clear that as soon as they got used to going in one direction, the staircases would shift once more. The stone flights did not constantly change their position, but at random moments, quite alarming the first time one moved when you were on it, but many students soon began to enjoy the experience just as Gryffindor did, many gathering on them as they moved. There were so many flights of stairs affected that there always seemed at least one on the move, with a low rumbling sound as it swung across the space to it's new position.

"I can't understand Salazar's problem." Tigelwotta said to the others. " It's not like he uses them often, his lot are down near the dungeons, he stays down there most of the time."

" Damn, knew there was somewhere we hadn't done much too." Bleac laughed as they discussed the new prank in Godric's rooms.

Their mentor had known who had been responsible for the prank as soon as it was discovered, not long after it had activated. After all, who else in the school was that inventive or imaginative, but the group of his students. He wasn't about to let Salazar know it was the Creaftas though, despite his friends rantings about the stairs, he enjoyed riding them too much.

"That's all very well and they are an incredible piece of magic, not to mention great fun." Godric smiled, "But, how long will the spell last and how do we cope if the stairs are in the wrong place when it ends?"

" Er, Godric the spell is in the stone work, I don't know that it will wear off, just like the ceiling." Utred confessed almost apologetically, almost,but not quite.

"You are joking! " Godric exclaimed surprised, then knowing they weren't from the looks on their faces, then he burst out laughing as they all shrugged. "You lot are so bloody talented, it doesn't matter what we teach does it? You lot are still going to take whatever you learn and develop it further than anyone else has thought of, for yourselves. I'd love to know how you do it, but you never cease to amaze me, just let me know if you have done anything else to my castle will you."

"Er, in that case I suppose we ought to tell you about the statues." Bleac muttered.

" The statues? " Godric asked cautiously.

" Well we animated some of them" Utred admitted.

" That's not to bad." Godric smiled "What do they do?"

" They come to life when you approach, or respond to passwords..."

" … and can be used to help defend the castle if needed, they sense when the castles in danger." The Wesele twins grinned.

"That could be useful." Godric replied and turned away briefly then turned back wide eyed.

"Wait a minute, how would they be able to sense it."

Tigelwotta looked at his grandfather " Well remember that lesson on magical sensors in Runes"

" Yes." Gryffindor replied cautiously.

" Well we expanded it a little, Grandfather"

" How so ?" He asked thoughtfully.

" So the castle could detect an attack or something that has the intent to attack it or it's occupants as well of course." Utred told him.

" What runes did you use?" Their mentor asked producing parchment and quill.

The Creaftas copied the runic symbols they had added to stones in the castle and showed it to him.

" You carved these into a stone in the castle?" He asked

" No, just every stone we placed since that lesson." Blanc admitted.

Godric looked at them incredulously. " But, that was four years ago, we hadn't even finished all the foundations back then then."

" Yes." The Creaftas replied.

" You lot were the keenest to lay the blocks, you must have placed hundreds of blocks, probably thousands since then."

" Yes."

" Throughout the castle."

" Yes"

" No wonder you were so keen to help, if this was your plan, but there is just one thing you have overlooked." Godric chuckled.

"Really?" They asked, they had believed they had covered every eventuality.

"I'm afraid so boy's, think about it, the combination of all those runes repeated around the building means that any of the statues placed in the castle now or in the future will animate, in fact anything representing people or animals will. You got the Runes spot on, but didn't take into account the Arithmancy of them combining when used in multiples within the same structure. I can't be precise in the calculations, because we have no idea how many elements you placed with the runes on them. It is safe to say, however, I strongly believe you have placed them in sufficient numbers to combine the effect and have done much more than simply make the castle able to sense danger." Godric told them, not merely a little admiration in his voice.

"Oh?" The Creaftas perked up, sensing that what ever the effect Godric was not unhappy about it, quite the reverse in fact.

" Yes lads, you have certainly made the castle able to absorb residual magic over time, you have more than likely given it a certain level of self awareness, to what level only time will tell. I suspect that at minimum it will be able to effect how it is developed if it so chooses, perhaps even what goes on within it's walls, you have undoubtedly created the largest magical object ever known. Even Merlin never achieved that on this scale, though he did experiment and theorised about the use of the runes on large structures, he never imagined it on anything the size of this Castle. You have created a very powerful magical object boys, I couldn't be more proud of you."

"Oh, we thought it might do that after the first year of placing the runes, we noticed they seemed to become linked, so checked your library and found Merlin's research." Utred told him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Godric chuckled. "Sal will kill me for saying it, but you lot are brilliant, I should give you all jobs teaching here, your creativity is incredible, your abilities individually and together make you formidable, especially considering you planned this all after less than a years training. You noted the effects were more than anticipated, so found out why, then evaluated things and went ahead having learnt about it further. One thing is for certain, though, I am hiding that book, it could be dangerous if anyone who has not got the skills you lot have, tries it. Please try not to annoy Salazar too much, you know he hates it when people not in his house demonstrate they could run rings round his students. All right go on, I'll see you lot in the morning, try not to spring any more surprises tonight if you can help it." He dismissed them, shaking his head, but grinning, then set off on a walk through the corridors of the castle in the opposite direction to his students.

Utred looked at the others as Godric disappeared round a corner. "Should we have told him about the tunnels do you think?" He laughed.

The others looked at him and joined his laughter as they started to walk towards the entrance of the tower.

As Godric walked away, he decided he really didn't want to know what else his best students had done, if anything and he would be surprised if there wasn't more. He would let matters unravel as they would, after all they added an enjoyable spice to his life. He knew Merlin would have approved, he had always encouraged his young apprentice to experiment and explore the possibilities of his magic, not to be limited by what he was taught or convention, but to use them as a base to spring from. It was part of the reason this castle was so large, to push the boundaries of what was deemed possible, the whole place was, in a way, a prank on traditionalists.

He had reached a third floor corridor when his attention was caught by the Creaftas ladies emerging from a door he couldn't recall seeing before. He groaned then called. "Girls, could I speak to you for a moment"

The girls hadn't noticed him as they emerged, they turned to face him just as the door disappeared, leaving a plain uninterrupted stone wall.

"Do I want to know?" He asked, his eyebrows slightly raised over his twinkling eyes as he indicated where the door had been.

"Oh Godric, we just built it as a place we could go without being disturbed, it's charmed to appear when needed and become any room we need." Freya smiled "Just don't tell the boys, at least not yet please."

"You lot are just as creative as your men. I am beginning to wonder how much we founder's actually had to do with this castle, all right I'll keep your secret, for now." He sighed happily. " I'll see you later."

The girls smiled and walked off, Gryffindor however had a plan and went to round up the founders. That night the four toured the castle making some changes. Changing a few doors to think they were walls, walls to think they were doors, windows where there couldn't be any, giving impossible views over the grounds and creating some short cuts within the walls, they were not poor pranksters themselves.

Hogwarts, newly self aware thanks to the Creaftas Runes, had decided she was female and she approved of the changes that the founders had made. She was very pleased with what the Creaftas and their ladies had done as well, but felt left out. So, unknown to the founders or Creaftas, she added a few things herself, then waited, expectantly, for her occupants to discover them, she could be patient.

* * *

Styr had sent out eight riders riders from the city in all, six headed north, splitting up within sight of the walls, appearing to cover the country in three pairs, whilst the other two headed south, it had been assumed they were to go to the few Northumbrian Lords resident south of the city, in fact they were going further south. He was going to find out the true situation in those lands for himself, it was these last two who would make contact with his spies and sources in the lands and court of his rival.

That had been three weeks ago and word had just reached him that two of his riders had just re entered the city, through the western gate. He knew that these two had to be the ones who had gone south, the news that they told him would help guide his attentions. His riders that had headed to the north were not due to return until summoned. They may have appeared to have been sent to begin to gather the Fyrd, but in reality they had taken different routes and now awaited word that this would be necessary at Dunholm, where such a call would start from. In the intervening weeks he had gathered what news and information he could, from within the City. He had received a number of ships captains at the palace, they arrived in the city from every nation known, to trade with the inhabitants of Jorvik and beyond. Receiving the captains at the palace was not in itself unusual, they would normally have been brought to the Palace on arrival to pay the tax they were charged, allowing them to trade here. They would also trade information about the places they had visited, it was expected they would deliver news from places they visited, before being allowed to trade with the populace and he had ensured he got any information he could from them. For the last few weeks he had paid particular attention to any who arrived from the south, those who had traded in or near any of the Wessex controlled lands or Wales itself he would probe with Legilimancy as well as more usual questions, being careful not to raise too much suspicion amongst them.

Ship captains were well regarded for the news they gathered as the passed from port to port, they and travelling entertainers were welcomed into Lords homes and palaces wherever they went for this very reason. They also heard news from else where from other captains who may not visit for quite a while, they knew where trouble brewed when advised not to visit a place by their contemporaries, a sure sign the men who bought their supplies had disappeared to fight somewhere. It had happened regarding Jorvik, the richest picking of them all for ship captains, when he had usurped his brother, they had wanted news that the city was safe for them to return to before they ventured up the Ouse again. In turn the captains knew they carried a valuable commodity, information, they could and did sell it to those who would pay. However they knew better than to ask for payment from the King, any King, in such circumstances the value of the information was in how useful it was to the ruler, the tax demand would indicate that, they would not be charged as much for good information as they would for any considered not as helpful. The trick for the captains was trying to judge what was worth more to whoever they were speaking to, as such they were not completely trusted, they had to keep their ears to the ground to glean any information of value. It would not be volunteered to them, unless it was intended they should pass it on, which in turn meant there would be more to it than had been revealed to them.

Styr had not heard one report of fighting anywhere in the south, or more particularly Wales from them, although it had to be admitted all the the Captains knowledge of the area close to that boundary was a few weeks old at best. His spies should be bringing news less than three days old by comparison, fresh and up to date. So Styr was already even more suspicious that the church may have found reason to doubt his loyalty and the Archbishop was testing him, or that they were up to something else and wanted him out of the way while they carried it out. He was certain they were trying to keep Northumbria poor in wealth and able men, by creating scarcity in the country, it seemed they called on the Fyrd whenever they seemed to be gaining strength.

A way of preventing the country gaining power, becoming more powerful than Wessex. He knew he could not defeat Wessex militarily, or aggressively, he had to show that he was the one intended to fulfil Alfred's dream, gain the advantage politically, but that did not mean starving his people or impoverishing the Kingdom. That was how he would lose this throne if it were allowed to happen, he would lose the support of the Northumbrians themselves, leaving the country ripe for plucking by his rival. He would work with the church to achieve his aims, so long as their desires matched his own, but he had to do it politically, he had to work the Muggle way for now. He had gathered many Magicals to his cause, but not enough to guarantee he could beat Wessex, not by a long shot. He tried to encourage others he found to his campaign, a unified Englaland ruled by his own kind. Those that refused, or that were first generation Magicals with no loyalty to their kind, he killed, he had , he could not risk knowledge of his true nature being revealed. His mentor had never tutored Muggle born Witches or Wizards, because their loyalty could not be relied on, to do so would be to risk his own and his Pure blood students safety, so clearly they had to be eliminated along with those who would not follow him.

He paced back and forth across the throne room, the moment of truth was approaching as fast as his men could cross the city and enter this room. He knew if aid were truly needed he would have to gather the Fyrd, though with harvest time almost upon them this would not be popular, it could cost him the throne with open rebellion, the effects on the people would be so severe. There was also the possibility he would have to send his full-time army out to force the other men to gather, which would make matters for him worse, all thanks to the church. It was impossible to have the men back in time to gather the crops, meaning they would not have any surplus to sell, meaning fewer taxes would be paid as less money was earned, he dreaded to think how long it would take for them to recover afterwards. So that path had to be avoided, unless absolutely necessary.

If however it was shown that aid was not needed, he would need to be extremely careful how he handled that, use all his political skills to protect his position. Hrothweard would soon want to know where the Fyrd was and why it had not yet arrived. He could hardly accuse the Archbishop of lying and expect to remain King for long, no matter the information he had, the church could call upon it's own army to oust him. While he did not mind angering the Archbishop when necessary, this time it was not the best course to take, yet neither path was appealing and a solution evaded him despite the many hours' consideration he had given it in the last weeks since the meeting.

His riders to the north would wait where they were until he called them back, unless there was trouble with the Scots. In which case the riders would have carried the shields of his loyal Lord of Dunholm and a branch as a sign they came in peace, as if they had been sent by the Lord, he knew from the city guards that those approaching did not, besides they were approaching the wrong gate for it to be them. The signal that had been received from the wall had indicated these were his own men, so he knew they were returning from the south, but he knew also that the Archbishop would know of their arrival too. Hearing the horses arriving in the yard of the palace, he stopped pacing the room and sat in his throne waiting. He dismissed the servants from the room at the sound of a knock at the door, this would be a private meeting, he already knew the wards around the perimeter would prevent any sound leaving the room, only his most loyal guards remained with him. He sat proudly, expectantly, he must appear totally in control even if his crown was potentially under threat by the news these men would give him.

The door was swung open by one of the guards, to admit the two men. The two dirty and dusty, from their long ride, scouts walked the length of the room and knelt before him.

"My Lord Majesty we bring the news that you requested." One of the men stated and withdrew a parchment scroll from his tunic.

He held it out, Styr stood, took one step forward and grasped the scroll, the messenger released it. Stepping back Styr sat imperiously in his throne again, he instructed them to stand, the men would remain until he had read the message and asked them any questions. Styr broke the wax seal and unrolled the parchment, the moment of truth had arrived.

* * *

 **Author's notes:** Many thanks to those of you who have stayed with this story so far, I appreciate your patience with the slow updates. I look forward to any reviews you may leave.  
I have added a news section to my author profile to keep you in touch with the goings on, as I progress with my stories. I was surprised to note that another site (ultimate Harry Potter Fan Fiction) had taken a copy of Essence of Revenge and published it there without letting me know. If any of you have come here via that site please let me know, us Authors get no feedback from that site at all.

Anyway, hopefully not as long a wait until next time, on with the historical notes.

Best wishes.

Tgfoy

 **Historical notes:**

Fyrd = 10th century Army; The make up of an army of the period surprises many people, we are used to the Hollywood view of armies of all periods being fully equipped with the best protection and weaponry of the time. This of course was not the case, the vast majority of the 10th century army was in fact made up of amateurs called upon to carry out their duty to defend their community. It is reckoned from writings and skeletons of the time that about 3 from every 100 men in an army would be equipped with helmet, sword and chain mail these being the professional soldiers or very wealthy. The rest with whatever they could lay their hands on. All males over 12 years of age would be expected to answer the call, a refusal would mean being hung en route as a warning to any who fled the battle. Shields would be provided, the lord would have many more than needed so they could be displayed on a rampart giving the impression of more men than there actually were. So armed with anything from swords to pitch forks they would march to meet the enemy, joining the men of other Lords on their side. Battle would be done in shield walls, the more experienced behind the novices to prevent fear taking the inexperienced and of course them running away.

York Minster/Cathedral. The current York Minster is the latest of a series of buildings on the site. The earliest known being the Via Principalis of the Roman City (Head quarters). Although not certain it is thought that the first Cathedral was built on this site as were it's successors, it is known that the first one was wooden (Known to have been built by 627 AD when King Edwin was baptised there) though no remains have been identified. Now to the name. Minster (Saxon) is a Church with a mission or teaching remit, or at least had, such was the case at York so we have the name York Minster which is the one it is best known as. However York Minster is also a Cathedral, a main church with a special seat for a bishop or Archbishop (Cathedra) which York Minster also has so it is also correct to call it York Cathedral. However the full legal name of what is the largest Gothic Cathedral in Europe is "The Cathedral and Metropolitical Church of St Peter in York." I think York Minster is simpler though.

Trade with Jorvik: Evidence has been found for trade in the city with goods from all over the known world in the tenth century. Furs from Scandinavia, Iceland and Greenland, Pottery from across Europe, soap stone from Shetland, glass beads from Ireland, but most remarkably Pepper corns. The closest Peppercorns could have been imported from is the Middle east, so at the very least people were trading with people who traded with that area. Peppercorns were incredibly valuable, worth more than gold, so to have any on a table in a bowl was a real show of wealth and power. All of these imports were brought in by ships who traded in every port, selling what they brought taking away the Cities products. Often such trades were in goods and yes would have included slaves, who were the men and families from defeated armies or simply those who had no craft or trade to earn money.

Nosegay: A mix of aromatic herbs wrapped in a cloth and worn to mask bad smells.

Just how filthy were the streets?

Although rubbish pits were dug, most rubbish was simply strewn to rot on the ground. All homes had fires burning wood in an open hearth and animals were kept in the back yards. These included pigs and chickens who shared the area with the well and Latrine. So the smell in the city would be powerful and the streets a mud of rotting organic matter.

I promised a 10th century recipe last chapter so here it is let me know if you try it..

All ingredients were locally available or easily obtained. No Pepper (see above)

A Viking stew recipe:

Meat (lamb, beef or Pork) Diced.

Mushrooms. (lots of)

Parsnips (nearest to carrots of the time).

Herbs

Leaf vegetables like cabbage or spinach.

Apples

Honey

Sea Salt.

Unsalted butter

Fill a pot with water and boil.

Fry meat in Butter (not oil).

Roughly Chop all vegetables and apples.

Add meat, veg apples and herbs to the pot of water.

Add salt to taste. And a teaspoon of honey to sweeten.

Simmer for three hours or until meat is tender. Add water as required during cooking.

The result is a grey unappetising looking stew with a watery gravy. It tastes fantastic though, (Yes I have eaten it and stranger on re enactments). Serve in a bowl with a spoon and knife. A roll of dry bread made without yeast would accompany the stew to soak up the "gravy". You could substitute fish or shellfish for the meat in which case the apples and Honey would not be added. No potatoes remember, they didn't arrive in the UK until Elizabethan times.


	9. The Gift of Merlin

Disclaimer: As always, anything you recognise from the novels by J.K. Rowling belongs to her and I make no claim on it, anything else however is from my weird imagination.

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

 **The Gift of Merlin.**

 **10th Century**

Archbishop Hrothweard was seething with anger, he sat in his private study in his palace contemplating his latest meeting with the King, he was glad that only his most trusted servants would dare enter the room. Of course those servants were all priests, reliant on him for their lively hood, fear of loosing their income though was not the biggest reason for their loyalty. Their faith demanded it, but holding the purse strings was an additional, more tangible constraint. None would, he knew, reveal the source of his anger, although they all knew what it was, if he discovered they had he could send them to a hermitage or remote Parish where they would live in poverty rather than the comfort they were used to here. To date, there was still no sign of the Fyrd gathering just outside the city wall, not a single man had arrived, none of the Lords with their Huscarls and sworn men had set up camp in the fields of Tang, or any of the other lands between city and forest. He knew the Kings messengers had set out heading around Northumbria three weeks ago, presumably carrying the summons, his own men had seen them go, yet since then nothing. Not one soul had arrived, at least not until a few days ago, when two had arrived back, oddly through the Western gate, though perhaps they had been to Cambraland. His own men from the militia, paid for by the church, patrolling the city wall alongside the king's men, had reported the two riders arriving and going straight to the Palace, they had been identified as two of the Kings sworn men. Since then not a word of news had come from Styr, well nothing of consequence at least.

Every ship captain that arrived in the city had gone straight to the palace, as was expected of them, to pay their dues to allow them to trade with the citizens, bringing news from the lands they had visited. Some had been Christians and visited the Cathedral, passing news to his clergy, they reported on the Kings interests. He had been particularly interested in news from the south. Hrothweard suspected that the King now knew the Welsh were peaceful, contrary to what he had told the King in order to have the Fyrd raised. If his counterpart in Cantwaraburh's ruse failed, then the churches plan to keep Northumbria weaker than Wessex, ready for a united Englaland to be created, would be delayed. Alfred's ideal, his dream of a united nation would once again remain elusive, out of reach and he would have failed his counterpart and church,as well as the King of Wessex. It was not lost on the two Archbishops, nor the King of Wessex that the ones who had come closest to fulfilling the dream were the pagans, when they had controlled Northumbria, East Anglia, Mercia and almost all of Wessex. That had been while Alfred himself had been King in that country, the Norse had managed to conquer Wessex, except for a few islands in the marshes of Athelney, where Alfred had hidden, gathering strength. He had emerged from those wetlands to retake Wessex, the Saxons of Wessex had never been so vulnerable since. Over time first Mercia, then East Anglia looked to the Kings of Wessex to rule, the Pagans had slowly lost land and influence ever since Athelney, Alfred's descendant sat on the throne and thanks to his ancestor was regarded as the natural King of a future Englaland.

Although he was Archbishop of Northumbria the Church barely tolerated a separate King here, its first political loyalty was to Wessex, the original Christian Kingdom. Northumbria had, in the eyes of the church, too easily accepted the pagans into their communities, been too keen to appease them. The Kingdoms of East Anglia and Mercia had capitulated to Wessex, Mercia in Alfred's day, bringing the church much wealth, some of which supplemented the amount Northumbria paid to maintain churches and build the shrine to Cuthbert being constructed within the fortifications of Dunholm. Failure to keep the King and Fyrd of Northumbria distracted and demoralised, with pointless missions, would be seen as his own personal failure, his betrayal to his superior and his church, the consequences would not be pleasant.

Unlike the Archbishop of Cantwaraburh, Hrothweard was Archbishop of divided lands, not all were Christians, even here in the City. He reckoned about a third of Northumbrians were true Christians who paid their tithe in full to the church, another third were Pagan or Norse, though since Styr's coup they were leaderless without their Lords. The rest proclaimed the faith which they believed would keep them safe at the time. The Lands under Wessex were Christian, the fact Northumbria wasn't entirely, was seen in the south as his failure and only the fact that Jorvik was so important to trade ensured his post here. His position was bolstered by Styr's enthusiastic capture, torture and execution of Satan's children, Witches and Wizards, even so he was hardly secure in the eyes of the church, if he lost control of the King, he would lose his power in the church.

Styr's predecessor, his brother, had listened to his councillors in the Witan too much, too often ignoring the wishes of the church, usually avoiding sending more than the minimum he could to deal swiftly with any requests for help, without calling the Fyrd. Under him Northumbria was growing too strong for comfort, the Church and Alfred's Heir demanded he had to go. It had been Hrothweard who had cultivated Styr, ensured he knew his place and assisted place him on the throne, he was supposed to be their man, doing as he was told. His reign so far had achieved what was needed, Northumbria was being kept at heel, no longer growing wealthy and more powerful, slowly weakening. If this was a sign that Styr was trying to take power for himself, then he would need to be put back in his place, he may be King, but he needed reminding that it was not he who held the power, he should be keeping Hrothweard fully informed. The silence from the King had been intolerable, especially as the absence of any members of the Fyrd had been noted in the City. The man had to be shown he had to obey a request from Wessex, force the Fyrd to assemble and march.

Hrothweard had not long returned from the Palace and a most unsatisfactory meeting with Styr, the King had claimed no knowledge as to the reason that the Fyrd had not yet arrived, no matter how furious the Archbishop had got. No matter what demands he made of the man he had put into power, the man had reacted with helpless concern. Once the clergyman's anger had run its course, Styr had calmly agreed that he too was concerned at the lack of response to the summons, he claimed not to have yet received word from any of his men who had taken it, then suggesting that two more messengers be sent North to find out what had happened to the first six and assist with raising men. Hrothweard knew this was a public show of the King doing precisely what was required of him, appearances must be kept up regardless of the substance behind them, so he could not be criticised for not trying to ensure instructions were followed. What the Archbishop was not sure of, was if the concern was genuine, or if the King knew more than he was revealing about what was actually going on. He had returned to his own palace, indignant at the stoic politeness of Styr in the face of his own righteous anger, how could the man remain so calm in the face of it all. Hrothweard had come away not knowing any more than he had before he went, which infuriated him almost as much as the lack of anyone he could blame.

* * *

The King watched the two horsemen he had promised the Archbishop he would send, gallop away from the city. Thorfin, his son, at his side, a small smile on his lips. His meeting with the Archbishop had gone well from his point of view, he seemed to have gained the upper hand, for now at least. He smiled at the obvious panic evident in the man's fury, now knowing for certain he was being set up by the church. His spies had confirmed that the peace with the Welsh held, at least for now, the summons the churchman had delivered was a ruse. The Northumbrian Fyrd was not needed in the south, so why was the church so keen to send them there? Could their be more than one reason, or was his theory the only one?

He had discussed these very questions with his spies and his most trusted advisors, Thorfin attended that meeting, he was after all the future King. Of all the possible answers they could think of, only one had made sense to them all and resolved every question they had. It was as the King had suspected before, the Church wanted Northumbria weak, almost certainly to make it easier for Wessex to take over at some point, unite the almost the whole of what they called Englaland under its King, the heir of Alfred. They knew this couldn't happen too soon, even Wessex would not invade whilst there was a King and line of succession in place, no, that wasn't their way if they could help it, which was why they had wanted to undermine his popularity. If he had taken the Fyrd south, the result would have weakened his position, making him vulnerable. Wessex preferred to move in and fill a void, that was how they had gained Mercia in Alfred's day, the King of that Country had died without an heir, so the wealthiest local Lord had been married Alfred's daughter in a political marriage. He was the next obvious ruler of Mercia, but could not build the following to take the title King, but coveted the chance to rule so had readily agreed to marry the princess, gaining an ally with the powerful neighbouring Country. He still could not call himself King, not without his father-in-laws permission and Alfred would not allow it. So he was King in all, but name, although he gradually learnt that it was his father in law that held the power, Mercia became annexed to Wessex almost without noticing. No war was fought over the Kingdom of Mercia with Wessex, no blood was spilt, but it was conquered all the same and its people didn't notice it happening or the difference. East Anglia had fallen in a similar way, through agreement with a Viking who had driven Alfred to cower in a marsh, before he could raise an army to retake Wessex from the Norse. The peace treaty had seen the Viking warrior baptised and given East Anglia to rule, with Alfred's help of course, eventually suffering a similar fate to Mercia, though it had taken longer and had been more violent at times, but in the end the Kingdom had slowly died without so much as a whimper. This was how the Christian Kings of Wessex conquered others, when they could.

They could use an army when they had to, that had been proved in defence against the Northmen, but would not attack without the blessing of their clergy, fighting to defend was of course accepted, invasion of another sovereign state was a different matter altogether. Successive Kings of Wessex took by stealth, in ways most would not notice were happening at all, with no alarm felt at all by those Countries, simply a friend helping another, until it was too late. So where there had once been three separate Kingdoms, there was now one, easier to control, stronger through sheer numbers as a unified entity, richer in resources and it was the Church pulling the strings. Inevitably, as the largest of the Kingdoms not yet under their control, Northumbria was a target, especially once the church demonstrated which King it would support.

Knowing this was what Wessex was likely to try against Northumbria to solidify his own position and knowing how to prevent it, however, were two completely different things. Northumbria may be a large area, but it was nowhere near the size, or strength that the south could muster, which meant Styr had to tread carefully. He had to be seen to be complying with the Archbishop and therefore deferring to the real power here, the church, or he would lose the support of the Christians. Yet he could not allow the church to simply gift Northumbria to Wessex, not unless he would rule over all. He needed time to prepare, to protect his Kingdom, to gain the power to control the enemy within and for that he needed Magic. Not to control the Archbishop, which he could do politically for now, using Magic may mean those he would rather didn't, would notice the change in him, alerting them to things he would rather they ignored. Besides, he needed to find out how many in the church were knowingly working to enslave Northumbria, before revealing his true nature and playing his hand, perhaps forcing theirs too. No, he needed help from his own kind, though not Salazar. His teacher would not help with this, he wanted nothing to do with Muggles, didn't see that power over them was preferable to simply ignoring their existence. Nor could he send his son to be trained at the school, with that runt Utred still alive, at that Castle, it was not safe to send his son there. Besides, his absence would be noted and give the church the opportunity to get rid of him, to act precipitously and before he was prepared for them. With no heir present, Wessex would without doubt arrive and take control, his son would lose everything. The church, this Archbishop, had helped him do the same to his brother after all, without doubt they could and would do the same to him given the excuse. He could not call on the magical community he knew without doubt still existed in Northumbria, his betrayal of those he had found who did not pay him or swear oaths to him had seen to that. That treachery to curry favour with the church was without doubt, well known by all of them, even if they did not know for certain who it had been, they would be far to cautious to reveal themselves to anyone, so none outside his own household would be likely to help him now. He was left with only one option, that he could see and it was time he acted.

He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder as the horsemen disappeared into the forest, riding hard. Thorfin looked up at his father.

"Come, my son." He said, being careful not to be overheard. "Now you are almost an Adult, it is time for your real training to be put to good use."

* * *

Godric had kept the Creaftas Ladies secret, even from his fellow founders, but he had asked them to show him how to work the room the day after he had discovered them leaving the room. Everyone had been surprised by some of the additions that had appeared overnight, though the sheer number of them had led the founders and Creaftas to reveal what they had each done in the castle that night to each other, Godric and the Ladies still keeping quiet about the room by silent agreement. Of course, this led to them discovering that some of the improvements to the castle had not been done by either group. Naturally, both sides in the prank wars, that ran between Creaftas and founders periodically, assumed that the other had only admitted to ones they had already discovered at first, only slowly realising the genuine, mutual surprise they all had at some of the additions. Eventually they decided that any others that neither side had admitted to, had to have been set up by Hogwarts herself. After the Creaftas had told the other founders about the runes that had given the castle a consciousness, they all agreed it seemed to be the most reasonable explanation, even Salazar was impressed by the achievement of these senior students. It had been Rowena and Helga that had initially suggested that the castle must be a she. They reasoned that the evidence in the subtlety, creativity and effectiveness of the changes neither group had created, conclusively proved the school was a she. The Creaftas ladies had agreed and all the men knew better than to argue, so Hogwarts, it was decided, was indeed female.

It was as a result of all this discussion between the groups that the founders made another decision, they decided that it was time that the Creaftas, including their Ladies, should be added to the hierarchy of the school officially. They each now had lessons to teach as well as detecting and collecting new students. They were still apprentices and bound by their oaths, but it was clear it was time they began helping educate the growing number of students as well, essentially learning as they worked. It was a system that worked well over the following weeks, for both the school and the students, the Creaftas enjoyed passing on their knowledge, settling into their new roles with ease.

The Creaftas had also spent a lot of their time with the Sliepnir, the equine had been both fascinated by them and subject of fascination since their arrival. The horse's first having taken to the group of humans, when they had become curious about the building works to replace the lodge Erik and Ulf had lived in since it had been brought from the forests near Jorvik. Utred and Tigelwotta had even ridden two of the Sliepnir, the individuals having allowed them to do so after they had come to trust them. The others were less willing to be ridden, but had agreed that if anyone could it would be the other Creaftas. Even though only two of them had so far been allowed to ride them, they could all now communicate fluently with the eight legged horses, a rare gift,a sign that a bond was definitely building between them.

The rest of the students had settled in to the castle well, after the festivities of the opening ceremonies. The routine of lessons during the day, socialising at meal times and evenings, in the Great Hall, library or in one of the four houses common rooms, was now firmly fixed, to be spiced by special events on occasion. Although more private than the other houses, the Slytherin's, along with the other houses, did allow the students of the other founders into their common room most evenings, they would join their fellows when reciprocal invites were extended to them.

Even so Salazar's students still kept themselves aloof somewhat from the rest of the school, keeping themselves to themselves in house matters, most especially from those who were Muggle born. Two nights of the week however, once dinner was complete, not one Slytherin could be seen around the school, or in the grounds. On those nights they all made their way to the second floor in small groups where they stayed until curfew. Although the whole school knew they went to that floor, no one outside that house had any idea which room they entered or why, the rumour mill had it that Slytherin had built a secret chamber under the castle, which was entered from the corridor where they would be seen going, circulated the school. Of course, the fact the Creaftas had managed to include moving staircases secretly was used to add credence to the story, an example of people being able to conceal things within the castle. The fact that the stairs had not been hidden, just the fact that they could move had been, was ignored by those who promoted this particular theory of evidence of the theory. When asked, the other founders simply stated that their colleague was, merely spending time with his apprentices, as was his right.

Each of the founders spent some time in the week giving extra training in their own specialist subjects to their own students, so it wasn't necessarily strange that Salazar would do the same. That Gryffindor was leading extra battle, duelling and tactical training for those in his house, was well known throughout the school. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were also open about what they taught in their house sessions, it was expected that the Masters would take an important role in their own apprentices' training. They each also spent time instructing students who showed an especial interest, or talent in the speciality, but Salazar was the only one of them not to do so in the same location that he would take his own students, only he was so secretive about it.

Each week new students arrived, in ever greater numbers since Godric had started to include the Creaftas in seeking them out and bringing them to the school. Where it had been a trickle of a few in a month, it had now become a steady flow. As well as locating the students, the opportunity was taken to ensure the family of each student was safe and help offered if needed, especially if they lived in Northumbria which was rapidly becoming unsafe for any one even connected with magic, Wessex was less dangerous, but still not completely innocuous. In fact, both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were happy to have enlisted Utred with his friends help to gather students on their behalf. As a result, the Creaftas and their ladies travelled all over the country, bringing back what news they heard, along with nervous eleven year olds and occasional families.

The founders spent their evenings discussing the running of the villages, Hogsmeade and the magical part of Godrics Hollow as well as the school. It had been one of the first decisions of the villagers and the other three founders, that Godric would act as head of the communities, he owned the land so it was, the others pointed out, quite natural he would be the Lord of it. As such, it was he who raised a point on future admissions to the school with his colleagues.

"My friends." He began and noted the sharp looks from and between the other three, he sighed.

They often teased him that he only addressed them in this way, during their evening meetings at least, when he knew what he was going to say next was highly likely to cause either offence to one of them, or an argument between them all, or more usually simply with Salazar.

He started again. "All right, I know and you know what I have to say might not sit well, with any of us actually, yet I fear we must face it." He paused.

"Godric, get on with it, face what?" Salazar growled, though the self satisfied smirk on his face told the others he was teasing Godric for trying to honey the topic before they knew what it was.

"Very well, as you asked so nicely, I will be blunt. We are, none of us, getting any younger, we need to face it we shall not be here forever, so how are we to ensure students are only accepted into our houses if they have the attributes required, after we are gone?"

Salazar spluttered indignantly, the mouthful of ale he had just swigged partly sprayed in a fine mist, the rest dribbling down his chin and onto his robes. Which, as usual on these occasions, resulted in him impolitely calling Godric's parentage into question, followed by any other imaginative insults he could think of to direct at his friend.

Hufflepuff giggled, pricking Salazar's occasional bouts of smugness being one of her aims in life, but Ravenclaw looked thoughtfully concerned, almost managing to hide the mirth twinkling in her eyes. All the while Godric tried to look innocently curious at his flustered friend, the look fooled no one.

They all waited for Salazar to calm enough to respond properly, it didn't take long. "Do we really need to consider that?" He asked. "You might be getting too old Godric, but I still have enough about me to recognise those of pure blood who are thoughtful and cunning enough to create leaders of our world in the future, they are the ones fit for my house."

"Oh really Salazar, even you are not immortal, not to mention you are only a few months younger than him anyway." Hufflepuff rebuked. "Nevertheless, Godric raises a good point which we had not considered. We each select only those which we wish to invite, they are then our apprentices. Let's be honest, we each have so many students now that they are no longer truly of that position, as we were. We have less to do with their education as we share the responsibility with others and more arrive as well. We have become more like titular heads rather than apprentice masters. Yet, how many of our selected students have characters that develop beyond our values after selection? As they grow, they show other strengths and some may even have fitted better in another one of our houses, we are not independent in our selections."

Ravenclaw agreed. "That is true Helga, for some the instruments show as one thing, but the person will become another or even occasionally do not show those qualities when we meet them. What we need is a method of individually and independently assessing their potential, one that could carry on after us."

"I hadn't thought of it that way, but simply a way of ensuring a method after we are gone." Godric stated. "So not only do we need a way that can continue our selection criteria, but also assesses the details of each individual, things even the student may be unaware of, but is part of them in any case."

"Precisely!" Ravenclaw smiled. "For example, Utred is brave, we all know that, but he also shows the loyalty you value Helga, not just to the Creaftas or even his own house, but to all of us and to his dead family. Many of his pranks and even assignments show him to be cunning and of great intelligence too. He could have been picked by any of us."

Salazar bridled at this. "Cunning he may be, but I certainly would have rejected him, he is not of pure blood, I still believe it is an unacceptable risk to us to bring any not raised in a Wizarding family here. We have been lucky so far, they and their families have not betrayed us yet."

"Then it would have been and indeed is, a loss to your house Salazar." Hufflepuff responded, ignoring his well known comments, bur wanting a dig in return she continued. "My own students bring their talents and flourish regardless of parentage or lineage."

Godric could feel the old argument rising again. "Stop! Salazar knows our views on this and we his, but they are not relevant to what we were discussing. Are we agreed that we need to find some way to independently sort new students into our houses, to replace our current method?"

"So long as we all accept we shouldn't be able to overrule the arbiter's decision, I agree." Ravenclaw concluded.

"As do I Godric." Hufflepuff nodded

Gryffindor nodded acceptance then turned to his friend. "What about you Salazar, it would free you up from dealing with those parents who are sceptical of this place and want special treatment for their offspring, my friend."

Slytherin smiled at the small dig from his friend, they all knew he hated dealing with parents' doubts over the existence of a safe place for their children, or battling through arrogant demands to pamper their child. "Very well Godric, so long as we agree as to the arbiter as well."

* * *

The Lord of the fortified town of Dunholm had not been at all pleased to see the arrival of the king's messengers in his citadel, he had enough problems without Styr sticking his nose in. Not only had he now to cope with the demands of the priests building the church and shrine to house St. Cuthbert's remains, though in truth that was the least of his worries, but now he had extra mouths to feed at a time he could well do without it. It was the custom that the king's messengers must be housed by the Lord, probably at the cost of his own or worse best men, who would have to give up their lodging despite the fact that he needed their loyalty and strength for the winter. Now was the time the land he controlled faced their most dangerous time of the year, when the harvest was being gathered and transported to the stores meaning the early Autumn weather was still good enough for the Scots to raid. Attacking to steal the fresh produce, before the climax of the Harvest was reached and the bounty was safely secured in the stores, ready to feed the City over the Winter.

The City itself was very safe from any raids, it sat surrounded by a tall, gated palisade atop a high and steep-sided outcrop of rock. A fast flowing river flowed round two sides, the white capped water boiled over the rocks beneath the near vertical cliffs. Only one road led up the only easily climbable side, it was narrow, allowing only four men to approach side-by-side, the ground falling sharply at its sides as it led up to the strong town gates. The gates were guarded day and night, there was no need to patrol the walkway of the walls unless an enemy were close by, any approach was observed long before any threat could be fulfilled. At nearby Gyruum a sheltered natural harbour allowed ships to land, close enough to provide trade with other lands and the rest of the country, but far enough away not to provide a weakness to the defences. Within the walls, the townsfolk lived in the luxury of safety which this impregnable fortress gave them, but outside in the lands it protected and which provided them with food, the farms and small communities were vulnerable to the raids of the Scots, news of which had been deliberately with held from the king.

They were small, opportunistic skirmishes, a nuisance, like a bee sting rather than important attacks, yet still the lord knew the king would send men to deal with them if he reported the truth. Neither The Lord, nor the local clergy wanted King or Archbishop interfering here, they would rather ignore them completely, but the reality was they could merely keep them at arms length. They and the townsfolk enjoyed a quite independent life free of interference from the outside Church and King which they guarded as carefully as they could. The King and the Archbishop were blissfully ignorant of the truth of the raids here and believed the area was no longer troubled, which suited the locals down to the ground, it meant they could build their wealth as they wished and the majority of it would stay within the community. The priests of the town were greedy and knew if the archbishop knew the truth of the wealth the Lord had allowed them to build, which they would loose if those outside came here, besides both King and Archbishop would take more from them in taxes than they did at present. They were, therefore, left to cope with the raids without interference or assistance, not that they minded too much. Their silence on the raids had lead all to believe the area was peaceful, encouraging a steady stream of Pilgrims to make their way to the place where Saint Cuthbert would rest after they had been to Onripum where his body was resting before being brought once the shrine was ready. So, they slowly built the shrine and church, thereby delaying the day Hrothweard would come and impose extra taxes on them. They could not avoid the certainty that he would arrive with the remains of the saint to bless the structures, install the relic in its permanent home and claim a large chunk of the silver the local clergy would extract from pilgrims, on top of the share they already sent as tithe to the church, just delay it.

So the sight of several riders, approaching fast from the south, the Kings badge on their shields, was not exactly welcome in Dunholm. Not only could it expose their profiteering, but they would certainly discover the truth about the raids, facts these men would certainly report back, unless their silence could be bought. It was expensive enough buying the silence of itinerant traders, the entertainers more so. Ship's captains knew they could demand more for their goods at Dunholm than anywhere else. It bought their silence, but king's men may not be able to be bought, or if they could, would be very expensive with the risk that they may take the silver and still bring men to deal with the raids. Even though they were not wanted, the riders had been welcomed in a manner befitting the messengers of the King, received in the Lord's hall where they had been fed while the pleasantry's of exchanging news was observed, then they had been shown the progress at the shrine which was nearing completion. The message they had brought with them was concerning to the Lord, they were to be his guests until such time as the need to call the Northumbrian Fyrd to march again south was ascertained.

They had been here far longer than the Lord and Clergy had hoped they would be, but there had still been no word from Jorvik. The Lord and Priests were getting more and more worried with each passing day. They had been lucky so far, the Scots had been quiet, but word of fresh raids on the surrounding area was sure to reach the town soon and then their isolation from interference by Jorvik would potentially be over. They had their plans to hide their covertly accrued wealth, so neither the king nor the Archbishop could claim it, but they hoped to avoid that. They could only hope the saint would still be brought and they would live long enough to gather more silver and gold from the pilgrims who were certain to come once it was here. If word of the continued raids spread south, then pilgrims would fear to travel here and all the traders in the town would lose out. The town needed the fresh source of silver, especially as the number of captured Scots that could be sold as slaves had gone down.

The Lord and Senior of the priests were quietly discussing what they could do to rid themselves of Styr's men, when a guard burst into the room.

"My lord, two more of the King's men are here." He announced urgently, news that was greeted, to the shock of the messenger with strong expletives from both men.

The Lord, unsurprised at his friend's outburst, nodded to the guard. "Prepare to receive them, we must maintain appearance of welcoming them." Obviously resigned to playing host to two more of the kings men, there was nothing else he could do, and he knew it.

The flustered guard calmed, bowed and left. Both men knew that every citizen was concerned by the presence of the men from the palace, fearing the King was trying to muscle in on their anticipated wealth.

"What is that sly Earsling up to? Invasion by stealth?" The priest was obviously angry. "Two more of his lot here."

"Calm yourself my friend, remember the others are awaiting instructions, it may be that those orders have just arrived, perhaps we shall be rid of them tomorrow."

The priest nodded. "Let us hope so, their tale of raising the Fyrd to go to Wales again, seems far too convenient to me, they have yet to make a single effort to do so."

* * *

A small group of men watched, unseen, from the trees on a hill above the fertile plains of Dunholm, as the two horsemen rode to the gates of the town and disappeared through them. The group were from North of the wall, they had positioned themselves strategically, overlooking the road to the town watching, ensuring no more than usual patrols left the stronghold. They, were not here to attack Dunholm, that was not what they needed. They and their men, with waggons and horse hidden behind them in the trees, had travelled south across the old wall to these lands, more fertile than there own, to raid the farms for food to take home. They had travelled covertly, on the high hills to the west where no one lived, so none patrolled, it was a path only those from north of the wall regularly trod, they knew it well, using it to raid this country. Having travelled further south than they had earlier in the year, they turned east, they had travelled at night or under cover of the trees, out of sight of roads and tracks, avoiding habitation, so no warning of their presence in these lands was announced, this was the furthest they ever encroached into this Kingdom, within sight of the walls of Dunholm, several days walk from their homes. These lands were rich and fertile, compared with those to the West or their own most fertile lands, which were not that different to these, at least in the south of their lands. Tonight though, they would raid here, then head directly back north as swiftly as they could. They would travel as covertly as they could towards home, perhaps raiding barns for freshly harvested crops as they went, if they failed to get enough from here. They grew just enough in their settlements for their own needs, but the harvest had been bad this year especially in the North where the soil was poorer and the ones who lived south of the wall, but lived north of here had attacked them destroying much of what they had before it was ready to be harvested. So they raided to survive, those who had attacked them were ruled from Dunholm so they would raid from here north to compensate and to deny the supplies to their enemies, who occupied these lands and the town. These small raids in retaliation were also a good way of keeping warrior skills sharp and sending a message to these people.

They knew the Lord of Dunholm had built a force strong enough to stop their small raiding bands, but knew he did not desire further confrontation with them on his own lands. They knew the Christians were building their shrine in the town and of the wealth they expected to come from it. Their spies had reported the townspeople's expectations and their dislike of the fact that some of the wealth would go south, to their rulers in Jorvik and beyond.

The small group of Scotsmen however, could not care less if the King sent men to stop their raids, they fought hard when challenged and did not fear some puppet of the Christian church. Besides, by the time an army could be raised and be in position to threaten them, they would be safely out of the area and well on their way home, this would be the last raid before they retreated for the winter. No army would attack their homelands in the cold season and if one came in the spring, then they would be ready and draw them into their lands, to where the southerners would be at a disadvantage and the men of Alba could destroy them once more. If that was what lay in the future, then so be it, today they simply stayed in the trees awaiting darkness, when the town gates would be closed. Then they would move through the lands like Sceadugengan, unseen and unheard, save by those they attacked, raiding and taking what they found.

* * *

Durslieg had had enough. His son had once again returned home in fear of those freaks, it had been weeks since he had been asked to make any shoes, or even as much as a belt, his silver was running out. He had once again been admonished for his behaviour towards the others in the village by Gryffindor, who refused to see that he had only been defending his son. No, the Lord had believed that his poor boy had attacked the freak first and refused to simply accept his word over others. Durslieg snorted at this, his son was normal; he had been here before all of them and that should mean something, why shouldn't he expect to be treated with deference from all these others? He had been here longer than most of them, this was his village as much as it was anyone's. Well, enough was enough. If, as he had heard, these freaks were not welcome in England, that is where he would take his family, where they could be safe among normal folk. He had told Lord Gryffindor they would leave, half expecting him to beg them to stay, but in that regard he had been disappointed. The Lord had simply nodded and offered a place for them to move to in Wales. Durslieg had been tempted, until he realised that the place would be in Godrics Hollow. He had angrily refused that and any other help offered, especially of the magical kind. Now a week later, he and his family, carrying all that they could on their waggon, pulled by their small, but strong horse, had left Hogsmeade behind, heads held high as the entire populace watched the family start their journey. The memory of that departure was still in Durslieg's mind, a few days afterwards when they passed through the second ancient Roman Wall that they had encountered since leaving. This one was by far the stronger of the two, solidly built of stone it was the more southerly of them as well. Passing through a gap where perhaps gates had once barred the way, the family knew they were leaving Scotland and entering Christian Northumbria. Passing the ruins immediately south of the wall they, continued to travel south hoping they would soon find civilisation, though they would only settle once they found a place that needed a Cordwainer. If they were lucky, the first place they came to would have need of one and be large enough to support them. Durslieg knew it was unlikely though, the first place large enough to possibly support them independently without a Lord's benevolence would most likely be Dunholm. He doubted the fortress would lack one of his trade within its walls, but he doubted that any of the settlements between there and the wall would be able to provide enough trade, even if they had need of one with his skills. If they found nothing at Dunholm, then they would pass between the different settlements, trading in each, as they headed south, he had his tools and a good quantity of leather so he could make a living that way until they reached a place they could settle. For now though, they simply headed towards Dunholm, which would be the first place they would try.

* * *

The thud of sword on shield reverberated loudly through the still morning air, followed quickly by another, then the ringing of the blades as they sang after striking each other, spurring the two battling warriors to their next attack on each other. Observers watched as the speed of the two men's deadly dance increased, attack after attack was made by each upon the other, who seemed oblivious to their audience. The two chain mailed and helmeted men were as if in a graceful dance, whose rhythm and tempo was dictated by the strength of their attacks. The sword song of their fight creating what felt like a charged, living atmosphere over the grassy duelling arena, close to the newly built stone lodge next to the waters of the adjacent lake. The two were strong, natural swordsmen, their skills clearly honed over years to be smooth and appear effortless, neither of them held anything back though, despite their friendship. Their feints, dodges, thrusts and slashes instinctive, vicious, controlled and ferocious, each rolling with blows landed by the other, then resuming their own attack without pause, sweat running freely beneath their helmets and chain mail hauberks. Both the combatant Lords were dressed in full battle dress, complete with wool filled coats beneath the mail and leather jackets over it, both wore metal plates within their boots to protect their ankles and fought with scarlet cloaks on their backs to add to the difficulty of their fight. The only differences in the grandeur of their appearance being the shield and helmet decorations, giving the watchers a way of telling which was which. They were each the image of warlords to be feared, spectacular in their finery, the spectators knowing they were exactly what they appeared to be, though that was only when necessary. Both were also kind, gentle and fair in their dealings with others, even so there not one of those amongst the spectators would willingly volunteer to face either man in the duelling square marked with branches where the two fought. Those watching were, however, enjoying the spectacle of the two men attempting to defeat the other, they had all stood in shield walls alongside both men, though not yet in battle. They shouted encouragement to the one they had bet on, encouraging their champion.

Neither man was giving ground to the other, neither holding back, each blow they gave intended to stop their opponent, one slip, one mistimed move, one error could allow the other the advantage. Both knew from experience the wounds they could receive, so both were focused completely on what they and each other were doing. Suddenly, the younger of the two saw an opening and managed to get a firm blow with his sword on his opponent's helmet, causing his opponent to stagger back. Dazed, the older one dropped to one knee and his sword fell to the ground, he shook his head trying to clear it, holding his hand, palm open, towards his opponent.

"All right Utred. I yield this time." He laughed, removing his helmet and looking at it, his eyes widened. "You've dented it!"

The young warrior laughed. "So long as it wasn't your head, Godric." He grounded his shield before offering his mentor his arm to help him up.

Godric accepted the arm, and pulling himself up, he noticed the Creaftas collecting their winnings "Oi! Have you no faith in your mentor?" He called, feigning offense.

The Wesele twins looked at each other before they replied.

"Of course we have…" The first responded.

"...which is why we bet on Utred." The other grinned.

"You had to ask." Utred laughed, removing his helmet.

"I know, I should know better by now." Godric sighed, shaking his head, then looked up at his student. "Good fight as always Utred."

Utred nodded. "My thanks as always Godric, what's the score now?" He bent over and let the chainmail slip over his head to the ground.

"About even, my Lord" Ulf called. "Two years of weekly bouts and I can't separate either of you."

The young Lord nodded again, handing his helmet, mail, sword and shield to Eric who, knowing what his lord liked to do after a practice bout, had come over ready to gather it. Sure enough, as Ulf walked over to gather Gryffindor's kit, Utred grinned slyly, looked at his opponent, who also knew what was coming. He also knew there was no chance he would be accepting the invitation, that morning had seen the first frost of the autumn after all.

"Swim?" Utred grinned, knowing the answer he would receive, the offer had only once been accepted and never since.

"Not a chance Utred, too cold for one thing. You go ahead if you want, I'll watch." Godric shivered. "You know I prefer to bathe inside rather than displaying myself to the Merfolk."

The one time Godric had bathed in the lake, was just after the Merfolk had arrived; in fact it was how they had discovered them in the water two years ago. The female Merfolk had taken quite a fancy to the naked Godric, he had never swum with the Creaftas since, much to the mermaids disappointment and the males, of both species, amusement.

"You're getting soft in your old age my friend." Utred said slyly, shedding the remainder of his clothes.

"Why, you young Earsling, wait until next week, it'll be your helmet that's dented." The founder responded with mock offence, as he did each time the Creaftas teased him about his age, which was usually on the occasions he lost their weekly duel to Utred.

Utred shrugged, and ran, naked, to the lake. He dived into the cold water without hesitation, followed quickly by the other male Creaftas. It was either too cold for their ladies to join them as they had in the summer, or the girls simply had more sense. Instead they sat next to the lodge, watching their men fooling about in the water, and talking with Godric as the students who had watched the duel dispersed back up to the castle.

"I hear one of Orin's family is coming to the school soon Godric." Frayja said

"Yes, young Toki turns eleven next week. Orin is bringing him on the day, there will be other new students that day too, some from Godric's hollow, others that have been found."

"Whose house will Toki be in? I know he wants to be with Utred." Tofa asked

"Well, therein lays a problem, we want to find a better way of sorting the new students. "Godric told them, then explained the four founders thinking. "It's all a bit haphazard how we do it now, whichever one of us gets there first is getting them, which was fine when there weren't that many new ones a week or even a month, but not ideal now or in the future. We need to find a better method, one that can survive us and is a truly independent arbiter of which house is best suited to each student. We know what we want the sorting to do, examine each person to detect their strengths, then place them where best suited, but how to do that? We have had lots of ideas between us, but the problem is it needs to be able to be used by anyone, so a test of some sort is out. That would only test one thing anyway, a series of tests would take time and where would they live in the meantime? No, it needs to be a simple, efficient method."

"Sounds like you need to enchant something that could examine a soul, place them and tell us." Godiva thoughtfully stated.

"Yes, but what?" Godric asked. "It has to be something anyone could use easily."

Frayja pondered. "Easiest would be something worn, it would need contact with the person, so it could be something held, but worn would be better."

Godric's eyes lit up. "You're right Frayja, something everyone could wear, put on and take off quickly and without fuss. I will give it more thought." He picked up his old pointed hat and put it on his head.

"Oh Godric, isn't it about time you got a new hat, that one is getting so tatty." Hilde laughed.

The older wizard looked shocked at the very idea; he was very fond of his hat. "Don't know what you mean!" He huffed. "Merlin gave me this, it's still got years left in it." He pulled the point to ensure it stood erect, as he did, a wide rip appeared an inch or so above the brim. "Oh Merlin forgive me!" He exclaimed, whipping it off his head and looking at the split sadly.

He didn't notice Frayja's eyes light up. "Godric, I think you will definitely need a new hat now, that tear has given me an idea. Melin's gift to you can be of even more use to the school now, I just thought of a way to solve your problem." Frayja enthusiastically told them her idea, after which Godric happily rushed off to find the other founders, hat grasped tightly in his hands.

Once he had gathered the other three in his office that day, they were not seen about the school for the rest of that, nor the whole of the following day. The door to Godric's office was locked , sealed with them all inside. Only Hogwarts herself knew what they were doing and she decided to help them with the task, waiting until they took a break, she added some of herself to their project, linking it to herself, a fact the founders would only discover later.

* * *

At Dunholm, the Lord knew his and his local priests secret was out, there was no way to avoid it. Reports of raids had begun to arrive during breakfast the morning after the two horsemen had ridden through the gates of the city, to join their comrades already waiting here. The first report was given in full hearing of the King's men, soon followed by confirmation, word of continued raids by the Scots would reach Jorvik soon. He had no way of preventing it, it was too late to try to bribe the men, so all he could do was try to convince the men this was a new development rather than an ongoing problem. He had to prevent reinforcements from Jorvik being sent to his aid, prevent the King and Archbishop discovering just how much gold they were making. He was pleased when it appeared that the pretence had worked, for now at least.

The men agreed that this first raid for several years, as he had convinced them, could signal the start of more. They remained in the town, freely giving their advice on how best to increase patrols, to protect the out lying farms and villages utilising the men he had, happy that they would not need to send for aid yet.

Over the next week there were nightly raids and several deaths as families tried to defend their property, though this was tempered somewhat after the capture of a Scottish family, who had all their belongings on a waggon and were headed south, after one of the early raids of the week. The Family claimed to be fleeing south, to anywhere they would not be surrounded by the type of pagans that had taken over their village and forced them out of it unfairly. The man claimed to be a Cordwainer, who had served his Lord well, until the village had been taken over by families who displayed sorcery, forcing good people from the village as a result and creating space for more of their kind. He believed his Lord had betrayed him, he had apparently sided with the pagans instead of the families who had served him. They had been the only family left in the village who had resisted the temptation to just leave, the only ones who had tried to show their new neighbours the error of their ways. The sorcerers had fled good Christians in England and believed they were safely beyond the churches justice. With the Lords blessing they had even built a large school, to educate their offspring in their sorcery. They told them about how their Lord had sided with the pagans, supported them in persecuting their family unfairly, they had then discovered that he was one of them all along and had deceived them. Eventually, after the family had suffered much persecution at the hands of the new comers, especially a group who victimised their poor son, he had freed them from the oath that bound them to him, so that they could leave.

The King's men had interrogated the family with the Lord's men, neither the man nor his son appearing typical warriors or raiders, both being so fat that they would hardly make it to a battlefield, never mind fight, but they took great interest at their tale. The men insisted the family be taken to Jorvik, as soon as it was possible and by the safest, speediest route available, which meant arranging for them to be taken by sea. They were amongst Styr's most trusted men, they knew his true nature, they shared it and he had seen to their training in magic himself. They knew many he had been forced to sacrifice to keep his secret, many of their kind who disagreed with him, threatened to reveal his true nature, they supported him in his quest to be the one King. Only then would he be able to protect their kind, place the pure wizards in power over Muggles, half bloods and Muggleborns They knew he sought a place where their kind was gathering outside his own influence, if this family of fat, stupid, arrogant Muggles were to be believed, they may be the key to finding it for him, so it was vital they were take to him.

Within a few days they gained passage from a nearby harbour, to Jorvik on a trading ship, taking the family with them. They would be in the city in three days, with a stop off in safe harbours along the East coast each night, far quicker than taking them over land. Even if they could have found a horse that was capable of carrying the man, or the boy for that matter, it would have taken far longer. No horse they knew would have got above a walking pace with the weight of either of them on its back, nor could they expect the poor beast to go far without resting with such a load.

The Lord of Dunholm knew that King Styr would be very interested in the family's tale, as would the Archbishop, it gave a way to reach a group of Pagans. Even without the Scots raids, now the King's army would be here by spring. The days of his town's independence from interference were numbered and he could do nothing to stop it.

As the family were boarding the ship, another figure was mounting a fast horse in the town. The figure left the town and raced north towards the Roman wall, until he reached an isolated spot. Here the person stopped and dismounted, their mission south abandoned. The task had been to gather information on the state of England, discover if any other areas were safe for magical people. The spy's home was a castle in Scotland, newly built near a village where wizard kind could be safe. They had recognised the family that were now on their way south by the sea, this was a matter of great importance. The mission now changed, the priority now was to warn those back at the Castle, their continued safety depended on it. That family could not be trusted to hold their tongues, not if they were given anything that would increase their importance in anyway, or were threatened. Leaving the horse where it was, the spy turned and with a gentle pop, disappeared to give the news of the Durslieg's capture and the danger that would bring to the school.

* * *

 **Late 20th century**

A few days after the match and the death of Eli, the twins with Molly were visiting Grimmauld Place, as they had most days of the summer, but today was a little different than usual. It was the last day of August, which meant that Harry and Ginny were leaving for Hogwarts. Kingsley had arranged a car to take Molly, Dudley and the twins to Kings Cross from the Burrow the next day, Dudley, who was leaving his car safely in the workshop at least until he was settled in at Hogsmeade, was taking up the offer to travel as a student, on the train. He would, after all, be receiving lessons to help him adapt to this world. Petunia had been tempted to go by the train, but was travelling with Harry and Ginny. She knew she needed the time she would gain to sort out her classroom and quarters, she would have the chance to familiarise herself with the castle and her new colleagues as well, besides there was something else she wanted to do on the way to the castle. She was leaving a much altered Dudley, he was visibly losing weight having taken the potion, already Ginny, Maria and Molly had each shrunk his clothes so they would fit his new figure. Poppy monitored his progress, at least as closely as she did Harry's, she had rather taken to him as she had Harry years before, they were both her special patients and she clearly looked forward to seeing them. Maria's father had managed to come up with little to help protect Dudley and Petunia, however, after consultation with Mr. Ollivander, both now carried what looked like a wand, it did have a magical core, but was not designed for casting spells. In fact the wands were amulets, containing a personalised shield charm, which had been constructed to protect them against most common spells, as well as a few uncommon ones. Both Dudley and Petunia were now full members of the magical community although they had yet to enter it unaccompanied by Harry, Ginny or any of their close family or friends, they were now subject to the jurisdiction of the ministry of Magic .

Sadly, Maggie was not getting any better, they had all visited her in hospital earlier in the day and the twins were very worried about her, but she had made them promise to concentrate on school whilst they were at Hogwarts. The two had nodded sadly, knowing this would be the last time they could visit before they left for school. They were looking forward to being resorted, but couldn't help regretting not being able to visit the hospital each day as they had been able to during the summer.

Harry and Ginny were concerned about how the other students, on the train the next day would react to seeing the twins again. Not many had seen the pair since they had been taken to St Mungo's last term, so wouldn't know how much they had changed, or that they would be given a fresh chance by being resorted.

"Tomorrow, stick with Dudley and Dennis on the train." Harry told them. "Remember the other pupils don't know you have recovered and are our friends yet, we don't know how they will respond to you coming back yet, so we want to make sure you are with people who do know.."

"Dennis has lots of friends and will help spread the word." Ginny told the twins. "We shall see you tomorrow at the top of the steps at the entrance when you get there, your sorting is going to happen before the first years are sorted, so they won't know you have changed houses, but the rest of the school will."

"Don't worry we shall still be there for you both, no matter what house you end up in, so will Dennis and Martin, they both know friendship is more important than house boundaries. We shall see you tomorrow, have a good trip." Smiled Harry.

"We will, Mr. Gresley says Martin is going to sit with us too, he is a new first year." Said Tarquin.

Oliver and Martin had met them in Diagon Alley at Florean's the day before, when Martin had just got his new wand, he and Tarquin had struck up an instant friendship. Harry nodded in response, he was glad the two boys had become friends, at least it meant Martin had one student he already knew and Tarquin a friend near his own age, he just hoped Delilah would find a friend too.

Dudley and Petunia hugged each other, both were at the start of their new lives, her son was leaving the nest to live on his own for the first time and so was she.

Harry distracted the twins whilst his Aunt and cousin hugged. "Now you two, when you get back to the Burrow after we have gone, there is a surprise their, waiting for each of you, ready for school. Molly knows about them and Ginny and I think you will like them, you can let us know when we see you tomorrow." He smiled.

The twins' faces grew excited. "Really Harry, what are they?" The twins spoke in unison.

"You'll see when you get back there, now, you look after Dudley, don't forget he has never been on the Hogwarts express before and he might be scared getting on the platform." Winked Ginny.

The Twins giggled and nodded before Dudley could notice.

"Well we had better be off, we must be at Hogwarts with time to get everything done and we have a call to make on the way, particularly for Petunia." Harry said. "We are Apparating there first."

"All right Harry, you all have a good term, we'll see you at Christmas." Said Molly.

"Yes mum, everyone here again this year, no arguments, we have the room and it saves you cooking for a change." Said Ginny in a tone that allowed no argument. "Muriel's with us again this year as well she tells me, which was a bit of a surprise. Wouldn't she be due to join the Prewitts this year?"

"Yes she would be, apparently she told the Prewitt's she had so much fun here last year that she wasn't going to them, they were just far too dull in comparison. So in future she was going to spend Christmas with us, at least until they learned to enjoy themselves properly. I had an awful lot of explaining to do after that, they weren't happy to be called boring. Anyway, are you sure you want all of us here again? We could always have you all to the Burrow instead."

"Yes mum, we are sure, you deserve a chance to relax over Christmas like everyone else, besides this place is bigger than the Burrow. So if only to try and give you a break, you are spending the holiday here Mum." Ginny said firmly. "You have more outdoor space and do our Birthdays in the summer when that can be used, so Christmas is our turn."

Harry decided it was definitely time to go; this had been a running discussion between Mother and Daughter for the past few days and had been in danger of becoming an argument at times. Not wanting that to spoil their departure, Harry quickly guided his Aunt and Wife to the door, calling their farewells as they went. They walked out of the room and through the front door, to the alley from where they would Apparate, leaving Molly, Dudley and the Twins to Floo to the Burrow. As Molly left and the others left, the house automatically locked itself down, to await the return of its owners.

* * *

Molly stepped out of the fire at the Burrow after Dudley and the twins, who had emerged one after the other just moments before into the kitchen and dusted themselves down, Dudley glad maria had helped him practice so he didn't fall over. The twins looking round expectantly, seeing nothing different, they looked up at Molly questioningly, the sight of such puzzled faces in stereo was quite comical.

Molly laughed. "They are in the sitting room waiting for you two." The twins shot off towards the room. "But, don't burst in you will startle them." She called, too late at their retreating backs.

As she spoke the two youngsters burst through the door and two loud startled squawks mixed with delighted exclamations of surprise. Molly and Dudley grinned, as they followed at a more sedate pace. On the table in the centre of the room were two cages, each containing a barn owl, now wide awake and indignant from the twins' enthusiastic entrance, the owls staring at their new owners suspiciously.

The twins carefully crossed the room; each knelt before one of the owls, finding some bags of owl treats under the table, they each offered one to the owl in the cage in front of them, as they tried to apologise to their new pet. The owls looked at each other, fluffed their feathers and tentatively took the offered treat, then hooted and hopped closer to the door of the cages. Soon each twin had an owl perched on an arm and were stroking them happily, soothing the birds.

"They don't have names yet, you need to think of one each and see if they approve, then be sure to send Harry and Ginny a letter to thank them, if your quick they will get it tonight after they get to Hogwarts." She said, then turning to Dudley, added wistfully "I hope their afternoon visits before hand go well for them, you could have gone with them then come back here you know."

"I know Mrs. Weasley and I want to go, but this time is for Harry, Ginny and Mum, I'll go with them another time." He answered.

Molly nodded, understanding.

* * *

Harry, Ginny and Petunia appeared in a quiet country lane above the village with a slight pop. Petunia let go of her nephews arm, having regained her balance, then nodded to them both, assuring them she was fine after they had Apparated her her. It was a hot sunny day, the pale blue sky flecked with high wisps of cloud, the twin trails of vapour from a jumbo jet passing high overhead pointing towards their destination. The gentle breeze cooling them as it tickled the leaves of the trees gently, the sound of water babbling indicating a small stream flowed out of sight nearby, they walked along the road down the hill into the village and headed towards the cottage. They did not know whether Petunia would see it until they got there, but she had said she wanted to go anyway.

Godrics Hollow was busy, the picturesque village was obviously a popular place to visit for Muggles, as well as magical folk looking for a family outing on a nice day before the youngsters had to return to school for a new term. They walked along the road, trying to be inconspicuous, but the further into the village they went the more people stared at them, many with vague looks of recognition on their faces as if they found the group familiar, but could not quite place exactly who they were. As they turned the corner on to the road the cottage was on Harry groaned, there was a large crowd gathered in front of Harry's parents' house.

"Aunt, I am sorry, but by the looks of it, this is not going to be as private as we hoped I'm afraid." He said.

"You mean all those people are looking at Lily and James' old house?" She said in amazement.

"Yes, unfortunately they are. At least I made sure they can't get in when we were here last Christmas." He sighed, unsure how they could handle this.

He knew that if he appeared there, they would likely be swamped by the crowd. He appreciated that they wanted to pay their respects to his parents and the events of that Halloween night, especially after the war, he didn't want to prevent that. If he had been here on his own he might have turned away, but he knew his Aunt wanted to do this, needed to have some closure regarding her sister. They had to proceed with what they had planned, for her sake. He just hoped the crowd would respect their privacy at the site of his parents' murder, though he thought he was most likely clutching at straws. Ginny squeezed his arm reassuringly, as they walked towards the cottage. They slowed down as they got nearer, then saw in a neighbouring garden a familiar figure and went over to him.

"Hi Martin." Ginny greeted the boy, who hadn't noticed their approach.

"Oh hi." He replied automatically, then looked up and smiled in recognition of the couple. "Harry, Ginny, are you wanting to visit the cottage?" He said in hushed tones so as not to alert those crowding near the cottage.

Petunia had not been with them in Diagon Alley when they had taken the Twins, so Harry introduced her. "Yes Martin, I'm sorry we should have mentioned it when we saw you yesterday, to be honest it slipped our minds. This is my mum's sister, she has never been before and we plan on going to the grave too, if we can get through the crowd."

"Hang on Harry, I'll get Dad, he'll know what to do." The boy went in and came out with his parents.

"Good to meet you Mr and Mrs Potter." Said Mr Gresley. "I am Jackson Gresley, Martin's father." Jackson looked very like Oliver Gresley, Martin's uncle. Harry commented on this as he shook the man's hand, and insisted he use their first names.

"Dad and Uncle Oliver are brothers, two of triplets with Uncle Isambard, Harry" Martin explained a little loudly

"Shush Martin, keep your voice down." His father stage whispered then leant towards Harry. "Harry, if you give us a moment we shall ensure your visit to your parents' house and grave are as private as possible, but I'm afraid it will mean some fuss to achieve, if that's all right?" His wife had walked past them and was calling on the neighbours.

"Not too much fuss I hope." Said Harry cautiously.

"No, just a bit of crowd control." Smiled Jackson. "Here, at least amongst the wizard community, we believe this is your home and we stick by locals. Many of us hope you will one day join us here, but you are already considered part of the village, and so we will look after you ahead of the tourists. Besides, you have already been most kind to young Martin here, he can't wait until he starts at Hogwarts tomorrow and has you teaching him."

"Thank you Jackson, I'm looking forward to teaching him and the others this year too. I have to say it means a lot to me that I am considered part of the community here, one day I might restore the house, or perhaps buy another house here, but regardless, this place will always be special to me, it was after all my first home." Replied Harry.

Ten of the neighbours came over and nodded a greeting, the largest of them then made his way to crowd at the cottage.

"Ladies and Gentlemen could I have your attention please." He called to the crowd. "Thank you for your interest in the Potters' home, however we need access to the property now for essential maintenance to keep it special in case Harry visits. I am sure you can appreciate that, so could you please make your way back towards the square, we shall be done well within the hour and there are plenty of things to do in the village today so the time will pass quickly. We shall send up red sparks when we have finished, they will look like muggle fireworks, at which time you will be most welcome to return. Our apologies for disturbing your visit, but this is the only time this week we are all here to be able do these routine tasks." He announced, as the other neighbours made their way towards the house in a group with Harry, Ginny and Petunia hidden in the midst of them.

Some in the crowd nodded understanding and made there way down the street, but others were a little unwilling to move. The residents firmly, yet courteously, pushed through them with the tall one in the lead, all ensuring no one would be hurt. Once at the front, they turned and formed a cordon in front of the fence, gently but firmly pushing the visitors back leaving Harry, Ginny and Petunia free to spend time at the house.

The remaining people in the crowd were not happy as the neighbours pushed them back from the fence, each person in that group felt it was their right to be there, some even claiming that they personally knew Harry and Ginny and would complain to them the very next time they saw them. Harry felt slightly guilty, but knew from these comments that if the crowd had spotted him they would have been swamped and never got near the house. His guilt was assuaged as he heard some of the crowd claiming to be his personal friend and threatening that he would take revenge on the villagers for preventing them viewing the cottage. He ignored them and turned his attention to the cottage. Martin, who had come along with them looked up at Harry. "Don't worry, we all know the truth so whatever they say doesn't matter to us." He grinned, then walked over to his Dad as the last of the crowd finally dispersed, the villagers, remained close by to redirect any others who came this way.

"Good grief Harry, was that your bedroom?" Petunia pointed at the missing corner of the house, they had told her and Dudley the full story of that night the evening after collecting the photographs from Swiftshot's, after which Petunia had asked if she could see where it had happened and visit the grave.

"Yes Aunt, that's where mum died, Dad was in the hall, he was killed there first. When the killing curse rebounded off me, it destroyed that part of the house apparently." Harry said, then realising his Aunt could see the house, he looked at her quizzically. "Aunt, only Magical folk should be able to see the house properly unaided by one of us, it looks like you must have some magic in you, which means you are able see it."

"Yes Harry, I could always see things Muggles shouldn't. James asked Dumbledore about it once, he thought it was simply because Lily and I were sisters, so had a shared genetics, although for some reason she had more magical power than me. I don't always see the things very clearly though, Dementors are just shadows for example, but I knew when they were in that village we hid in while you were off fighting. I could always see anything like that, but it's the only magical ability I have so far as I know. Apparently some Squibs have a little ability like this, though of course, can't cast spells, Dumbledore thought he had never seen it in a Muggleborn before though."

Harry thought about it for a moment. "I never thought about the possibility of different levels of Squib before, makes sense though. Some Magicals are stronger than others after all, it's the same thing really."

They spent some time at the house, though did not venture through the gate, before turning to the villagers and thanking them for their help. The villagers happily assured them it was not a problem, before returning to what they had been doing before, while Jackson and Martin walked with the trio down to the grave yard. Wand sparks sailed into the sky, letting those who knew know they could return to the cottage if they wished. Again Harry and Ginny attracted attention as they walked into the square, Harry even spotted the two witches they had over heard in the pub on Christmas Eve, staring wide eyed as they walked across the square, clearly on friendly terms with the Gresley's. This time the two ladies were speechless, although it was obvious they had recognised him and they weren't the only ones. A number of people had stopped when they had spotted the couple, though so far none had approached, the small group continued walking across the square, as if nothing were happening, passing the memorial in the middle.

"It's Lily and James." Exclaimed Petunia. "I thought it was just a war memorial, but it just changed, you're there too Harry, as a baby, looking just as you did when you arrived with us."

Petunia looked up at the statue, the figure of Lily broke into a broad smile directed right at Petunia and nodded.

Petunia's tears began to fall as she shook her head saying. "Oh Lily, it is so good to see you, I am so, so sorry."

The statue nodded reassuringly and Harry put an arm round his aunt. "It's all right Aunt Petunia, look, I think she understands." He reassured her.

"We had better move on." Jackson said. "We are starting to gather attention, we need to get to the church yard before we can't get through due to any crowd."

The crowd was growing, word of the presence of the Potters in the square appeared to be spreading quickly round the village. Even the muggles present were being drawn into the excitement, trying to catch a glimpse of the celebrities they could hear being whispered about. Even though they had no real clue who they were looking for, they still joined the throng craning their necks to try to catch a glimpse of them. It was reluctantly that the small group moved swiftly towards the church yard, wanting to stay near the statue, but knowing they must move before the way was blocked by well wishers and others.

They walked to the gate in the wall, and entered the grass covered yard, punctuated with tombs, memorials and upright grave stones. It was the first time Harry had seen it in the summer, it was beautifully kept. The grass was closely mown, some of the graves had been tended as flower gardens and there were a few areas similarly planted. There were a few trees dotted amongst the graves, an ancient Oak stood in one corner, whilst what seemed to be the obligatory Yew stood close to the porched entrance to the grey stone church, as one seemed to in most English church yards. Looking round towards where he knew their destination lay, a few visitors were close to the plot where Lily and James were buried. Thankfully the majority of those who had followed from the square had stopped before entering the church yard, they stood along the stone wall that marked the boundary with the market square, simply watching, respecting the families need to be on their own at the grave side.

As they approached the grave, the few people that were gathered at it noticed their approach. Recognising the couple, they respectfully moved away to allow them privacy, the children of one family were being ushered away protesting, until the youngsters spotted Harry and Ginny too. Their eyes widening as they realised who was there, they were stunned into silence and compliance with their parents wishes. Jackson and Martin stood at a respectful distance from the family, yet watchfully guarding the three as they knelt by the grave.

Petunia had once again become very emotional. "It's never felt so real." She whispered hoarsely to no one in particular. "Not until now!"

Harry understood exactly what she meant, the first time he had been here, late at night in the snow with Hermione, that Christmas night when they had been on the run, the fact of his parents' death had never seemed quite so final as in that moment. Even when he had known the truth of how they died and he had experienced the reawakening of long latent memories, it had all seemed slightly distant, a story perhaps. It was being here next to this grave, especially that first time, which made it all, as Petunia said, real.

They spent a long time at the grave, while Petunia sobbed and they all talked to James and Lily. They gave Petunia as much time as she needed, almost forgetting the crowd that was growing at the wall to watch them. Once she was ready, Harry conjured two wreaths, one from Ginny and himself, the other simply made of White Lilies and Blue Petunia's which he gave to his Aunt. Petunia gazed at the wreath for a moment, then laid it next to the other which Harry had placed, the card on hers simply read. "Beloved Sister."

They stood, and walked over to Jackson and Martin, noticing that the crowd had grown, Harry noticed his Aunt pale at the sight. Shielded from view by the two locals and Harry, Ginny helped Petunia fix her make up and removed all signs of her tears with a wave of her wand. The older lady was grateful; she wanted to make a good first impression when they arrived at their next destination, although both Harry and Ginny had assured her everyone there would have understood.

Harry turned to Jackson and shook the man's hand warmly. "Many thanks for your help, we have to go on to Hogwarts now, get ready for the start of term. We'll Apparate from here if that's all right, I don't think we would get through that lot at the wall in one piece."

The man chuckled. "No, I expect you are right, especially with Guinevere and Christabel there." Harry noticed the two ladies he had spotted earlier, though now they were talking animatedly to each other near the gate, too near the gate for Harry's comfort. Jackson laughed again then continued. "Don't worry, it's fine to Apparate, plenty of our lot to deal with any Muggles over there if it's needed. It was a pleasure to meet you all, once you have gone we'll all Apparate home. I hope you will come again soon, when you do, just pop round to ours, you are welcome at the Gresley's always."

"Thanks Jackson, we will. See you tomorrow Martin, don't forget you're meeting the twins and Dudley on the train." Ginny smiled.

Petunia took Harry's arm and with a final nod to the Gresley's, they Apparated away, leaving a disappointed crowd who dispersed as quickly as they had gathered, after the Gresley's had left as well, many Muggles left wondering why they had been watching a deserted Church yard for so long.

* * *

Harry, Ginny and Petunia had lunch with Ron, Hermione was at work, in the Three Broomsticks, before walking up to the castle, showing Petunia a few of the sights in the village on the way, including Weasley's where Dudley would be living and working. This was the first time Petunia had been to Hogwarts of course, though she had wanted to come with her sister, so Harry and Ginny were looking forward to seeing here reaction when she saw the school. Even in daylight the castle was impressive and the addition of the tall memorial simply added to the grandeur of the school, it was a pity that she would not see it from the lake, as every first year did, it was only now that the couple thought about it for her so too late to try to arrange it today, but perhaps they could for another time. Petunia gasped as she got her first view of the ancient building, set atop the hill, with the mountains behind it. "My goodness, it really is beautiful, what a wonderful place to go to school."

Hagrid emerged from the front doors as they neared the end of their walk up the drive; he waved as he saw them approach and waited at the bottom of the steps for them.

"Hi 'Arry, Ginny, just on my way t'see Grawpy. Glad t' see ye again Petunia." He grinned as they reached him.

"Hi Hagrid." Harry replied to his friend. "Give Grawp our love will you."

Hagrid laughed. "Sure will 'Arry mate, 'e'll be glad to 'ear yer back, so will Bucky mind."

Petunia was looking at Hagrid quizzically, vague recognition on her face. ""You came for Harry when he was eleven didn't you? I saw you at the wedding, but I've only just now placed you."

"Aye, different time though, no 'ard feelin's I 'ope. I'm 'Agrid." He held out his hand.

"No none at all Hagrid, it's good to meet you properly at last." Smiled Petunia, taking his hand and shaking it warmly. "You did what you had to on that occasion, we were foolish enough to lie to Harry about who he really was and then try to hide when the truth was coming out. Not your fault at all, besides it feels like a lifetime ago now."

Hagrid nodded his agreement.

"We had better go in Hagrid, Minerva wants to see us and we have to show Petunia around." Harry said "We'll see you later."

"Sure 'Arry she's in 'er office, she's no' changed t' password ye'. See yer all at briefing later." He said cheerfully.

Hagrid turned and set off across the grounds. Ginny and Harry led Petunia into the entrance hall and up the stairs to the Headmistress's office. She hardly knew where to look, although they had told her about the castle, their descriptions of such things as the moving portraits and the building had not really prepared her for the real thing. They reached the entrance to the Headmistresses office and Petunia gave the Gargoyle the password, the statue obediently moved aside, reassuring them that the castle was accepting her. They stepped forward on to the staircase, at the top of the moving stairs, they knocked on the door.

"Come in." They heard Minerva call.

They opened the door and walked in. "Good Afternoon Minerva" Ginny smiled.

"Welcome back Harry and Ginny." She said as they walked into the office. "And Petunia welcome to Hogwarts at last."

"Thank you Headmistress." Petunia smiled. "I have to say, I am more than a little nervous."

"Don't worry, all the staff know the situation and are looking forward to meeting you. Now to let you know all of us teachers are called Professor by the students, so you would be Professor Dursley to them."

"Actually Minerva, I wonder if you would mind if I was known by maiden name, I don't need to be reminded of what I allowed my husband to get away with." Petunia asked.

"Of course you can Petunia, Professor Evans it is. Of course, between ourselves, away from the students, we all use our first names. Your class room has had some alterations since we knew you were coming, we have placed charms on it to prevent Magic being used in there, so students won't have an advantage over you. Kreacher has already placed some boxes of interesting looking items in there for you and your luggage is already in your quarters. Now Harry, Ginny, please ensure Petunia knows where her rooms are and how to get around the school. Nearly Headless Nick has promised to help you get around too, he's the Gryffindor Ghost and Harry's elf will help as well. That reminds me, Harry. Kreacher came to see me while you were on Honeymoon, Ginny this concerns you too. He agreed to wait until you were both here, but he has some news for you which will affect your household and he wants your approval. He has asked mine, because it affects Hogwarts too and I have given it. I consider it good news and am sure you will too, I cannot say more yet, we must not discuss it until after he has spoken with you. He will do so tonight after dinner and the briefing."

"That sounds intriguing." Said Harry puzzled.

"If it's what I think it is, I think it's wonderful." Said Ginny smiling broadly.

"I'm sorry but, I really cannot say any more about it until Kreacher has spoken with you both. Anyway everything is waiting for you in your rooms, the briefing for staff will, as I said, be at dinner this evening, so you have all afternoon to settle in and tomorrow as well so I will see you later. Oh and Ginny, don't forget the wedding photographs this evening, we are dying to see them, Pomona said she would try to pop in to see them too." Minerva finished.

* * *

After the briefing that evening, Petunia felt much more comfortable about her new post. She had been a little worried about meeting the ghosts, but once she had met Nick, she was more relaxed about them. She was, of course, cautious about Peeves the poltergeist, as was everyone else as far as she could make out. The staff had made her most welcome and reassured her that they were there to help her, Professor Flitwick told her many of his memories of Lily at Hogwarts, as did Professor Slughorn. After all of them, including the retired Pomona Sprout who had Flooed in for the occasion, had enjoyed looking at the wedding photographs, Harry and Ginny had escorted her back to her quarters. Petunia liked her rooms, they were well appointed she thought, with a comfortable sitting room, an office, bedroom and bathroom. Her classroom was already adorned with Dudley's electronic gadgets and other things from Privet Drive, as well as an assortment of objects the school had already collected, including a number of children's toys. She settled contentedly in bed that night, looking forward to the next day, when she would be shown round the castle properly and of course, the arrival of the students.

After leaving Petunia, Harry and Ginny went to their quarters where Kreacher was nervously waiting. He wasn't alone.

"Master, Mistress good evening." He bowed. "Would you like a drink?"

"No, that's all right thanks Kreacher." Said Ginny sitting down, Harry sat beside her, smiling as he recognised the second elf from Hogwarts staff.

Ginny had told him what she thought this was all about, the presence of the second Elf seemed to confirm her thoughts.

"Master, Mistress I have something to ask you. Last year while we were here, I felt that despite my duties to you, I was growing closer to another elf. Kreacher has never been close to another elf like this before, but that elf and Kreacher have grown very close. Elf law and tradition demands that we must now ask our Masters if it is agreeable to you for us to continue our relationship, we are in love. The other elf is Winky, who belongs to Hogwarts, but would become yours if you allow us to become wed. You will, of course, need to speak with the Headmistress about the loss of an elf to the school, but would you be willing to allow Kreacher and Winky to wed?"

Winky stepped forward to stand next to Kreacher and bowed. "I am Winky." She said simply.

Ginny had been quite correct in her guess and knowing that if she were right there would be formalities that needed following, had looked up what was required in their responses that afternoon. She had briefed Harry about it when she told him her theory, so that they both would know what to do. Protocol in this situation demanded she question Winky before Harry spoke, her words were to ensure the female Elf was willing to join their house, should agreement with her current master be reached.

"Winky, Kreacher has told us that you and he wish to wed, that means you would become our Elf. If agreement can be reached, are you willing to leave Hogwarts, to wed Kreacher and become our Elf at his side?" Ginny asked Kindly.

"Mistress Potter, I am." The elf replied nervously, following the ritual.

Harry replied as was required to indicate he was willing to accept her into his house. "Then we will be happy for you both to wed, we shall discuss this with the Headmistress and then we shall speak to you again, but you have our approval."

"Thank you Master." Said Kreacher, giving the formal response, as both Elves bowed deeply "And thank you Mistress."

* * *

Dudley looked at the barrier between platforms nine and ten dubiously.

"You are kidding me aren't you, you want me to walk straight into that brick wall?" He asked dubiously.

"That's right Dud, it's fine don't worry. Because you are with us you will make it onto the platform." Molly reassured him. "Tell you what, let's all go through together."

Dudley nodded nervously, Delilah looked at him.

"It's fine Dudley, come on." They all walked slowly to the wall. Dudley behind Molly and Tarquin. Delilah held his arm as he pushed the trolley with the twins' luggage on it, the two owls sleeping in their cages. He had a second to feel more confident as he saw Molly and Tarquin disappear through the barrier, then he was through.

A smiling Molly stood waiting on the other side. "There you are, Dudley, welcome to platform nine and three quarters, now let's go find Martin and Dennis. They walked along the packed platform, full of families saying goodbye to each other, loading trunks onto the train and friends reuniting, there was an excited air of anticipation across the platform. They soon they found Dennis waiting near to the door of the coach next to the one reserved for prefects.

"Martin has just arrived, he's saying goodbye to his parents, I saved us a compartment, my trunk is already in there, it's the first one nearest this door, just here." He smiled, slapping the wall.

"Thanks Dennis." Said the twins.

Dudley helped them to load their trunks and owls into the compartment, then they returned to the platform to say goodbye. The Creevey's and Gresley's were there with Molly to see them all off.

"Have a good term my dears, write to me when you get there." Molly hugged the twins. "Dudley, enjoy yourself at Hogsmeade, Ron's meeting you at the school, you are both invited to the feast, Hermione will be there too, so it should be fun and give you a chance to get to know her a little more."

A guards whistle sounded, echoing over the platform and the students scrambled aboard. The five of them settled in their compartment and waved enthusiastically through the window as the train began to move. When the train was out of the station and entering the tunnel that led to the mainline north, they settled back into their seats. Martin asked about the twins' owls.

"Harry and Ginny gave them to us yesterday, as a surprise, mine's called Hersilia" Tarquin told them.

"Mine's Romulas." Delilah smiled, proudly.

As the train left the tunnel, and began to pick up speed, the compartment door opened and two of Dennis's friends came in.

"Hi Dennis, what you doing here? Come and sit with us." One of them said.

"Can't guys, I promised the Professors Potter I would look after these two, but can you do us a favour. Spread the word that the Wolfe twins are being resorted because of what their Aunt did to them, they are no threat to the Potters or their friends now. The Potters have helped them and ask that they not to be blamed for last year at all."

"Sure thing, Dennis, we'll let people know, sounds like there have been a few things going on for Harry and Ginny though. They were seen with a woman no one knew in Godrics Hollow yesterday, from the wreaths they left on his parents grave, it was his Aunt. The Prophet has a picture of the cards on the flowers, I thought Harry didn't get on with his Aunt and her family though?"

Dudley looked at the student. "We didn't, but for a while now Mum and I have seen Harry differently. My Dad didn't and wouldn't accept the fact we were worried about my cousin, so we left him. Yesterday was Mum's first chance to visit her sister's grave, he would never have allowed that even."

Martin went red. "I don't understand why people wouldn't let them visit the house and grave in peace, it was a circus."

The others agreed with the sentiment.

Dennis's friends nodded their agreement and shook Dudley warmly by the hand, before leaving to spread the word about the twins, and that they were sat with Harry's cousin. After they had set the grapevine going down the train they came back and joined them in the compartment, which somehow was big enough, for the rest of the journey.

When they arrived at Hogsmeade station, Martin went to join the other first years with Hagrid, while Dudley, Dennis and his friends headed for the coaches. Two Slytherin's jeered the twins as traitors to the house for wanting to be resorted, angrily telling them they had no business abandoning their noble house, no matter the reason.

"Stupid beggars!" Said Tarquin climbing into the coach. "I really don't want to go back into that house if it can be avoided."

"Neither do I." Admitted Delilah.

"Well I hope you come to Gryffindor." Said Dennis, "Martin too, it would be great to hang out with all three of you."

"Besides" Added Ludwig, one of Dennis's friends. "I reckon you two are definitely brave enough, coming back to school after all that happened last year proves that beyond doubt." He grinned.

"Exactly." Agreed Richard, the other boy with them. "Without a doubt you would be a good fit."

As they settled in the coach, it set off. Dudley looked out of the window and he was only slightly surprised to see nothing appeared to be pulling the coach.

"Thestrals are pulling it." Dennis told him. "You can only see them if you have seen death, you will be one of only a few your age here who can't see them now, Dud."

Dudley looked at Dennis wide eyed. "You are joking aren't you, there are actually creatures you can only see if you have seen death?" He said in disbelief.

"Sorry Dud, I'm afraid it's true my friend. I'm lucky, I can't see them, I haven't witnessed anyone dying. Just the result, but there are plenty who left last year and the year before who could. Harry did after his fourth year." Dennis told him.

Dudley felt uncomfortable, he remembered how he bullied Harry in the Summer after their fourth year at their separate schools. He had hated how he had been back then, how insensitive to other people. He realised how much he still had to learn about Harry, how many years he had wasted with his fathers prejudice and how far he had come.

"Ah here we are." Said Tarquin as they passed through a gateway. "Hogwarts!"

Dudley had been so deep in his thoughts he had not noticed the castle until now. As they travelled up the drive, he saw the school slowly revealed, the sight took his breath away. The building was enormous, a multitude of towers and roofs, bright lights in the windows, a thin white column appeared to glow where it stood alone near to the open entrance doors. The carriage drew to a halt at the bottom of a flight of steps, which were awash with light from the large open doorway and with students dashing up them. Harry and Ginny stood at the top waiting for the twins, students greeting them as they passed. Dudley climbed the steps with his new friends, looking up at the castle that towered above them.

"Hi cousin." Said Harry grinning widely. "Good trip?"

Dudley smiled in return "Yes, thanks Professor, very interesting too, these guys have been great company, we got to know each other quite well."

"Good I'm glad, by the way Professor McGonagall wants a word with you after the feast, she is inside getting students to the Great Hall. There's a seat at the staff table for you, but she says you can sit at the Gryffindor table with Dennis and your new friends, if you would prefer." Harry smiled.

"I think I'd prefer to sit with the students, I'd feel a bit on show at the teachers table with no real reason tonight." Dudley replied.

"I thought you might. " Harry nodded. "Dennis will you, Richard, and Ludwig take Dudley in, show him where to sit, introduce him round."

The three students nodded, reassured the twins they would be their friends no matter what now they had got to know them, then beckoned Dudley to join them as they made their way in.

"Delilah, Tarquin, you stay with us for the moment, we will go in after the others, but before the first years arrive, all right." Ginny said, putting a reassuring arm round the two.

Once the last of the carriages had unloaded its passengers and the students had taken their seats, Harry, Ginny and the twins entered the hall and walked to the front. Harry had specifically requested that it was he and Ginny who walked with the twins to be resorted, it would show everyone they supported the two children despite what they had done. The students fell silent as the group of four approached the front and stood in front of the headmistress.

"Headmistress!" Harry authoritatively announced. "These two students were sorted last year, but were under the control of others, it is our belief that this influence over them was such that it could have affected the sorting. We therefore request they be resorted, now that the influence of others is broken and they are now their true selves."

"Headmistress." Ginny spoke. "I concur with and fully support, the request my colleague has made, we gave you notice of this request."

Minerva stood. "My thanks for your request, I agree with your reasons and have consulted with the hat, which agrees that they are sound and are grounds allowable under the instructions the founders imprinted when they gave the hat life. Therefore, for the first time in Hogwarts history and because of the depth of influence of others on these two students, the hat will re-sort them to their true house of the four."

Neville brought the stool to the front and held the hat by only the tip, the hat spoke.

"Because they are twins, I will indicate when I have selected, but only announce my decision once both have been sorted. Even they shall not know until I speak, after both have worn me again."

Delilah sat first, the hat chose quickly and said so, then Tarquin sat, again the hat chose quickly and was removed from his head. The twins stood next to the stool and Neville placed the hat on it.

The hat looked round the room. "These two were not as hard to sort as I had feared. The influence over them is truly gone, their true qualities now shine. For both there is only one possibility, they both belong in Gryffindor." The hat announced.

Harry and Ginny cheered although the applause from the house table was not as enthusiastic as usual. The twins were led to their new house table by the head of house and his wife.

"Gryffindor!" Harry called. "I welcome these two into our house without any hesitation, they are Gryffindor's and they are part of our family in Hogwarts. Look after them, just as you look after each other."

It was then that the house students cheered and the twins sat at the table with Dudley, Dennis, Richard and Ludwig. Harry was pleased to see the other Gryffindor's welcoming the twins, but he knew some of the Slytherin's would not treat them well, they would see this as nothing less than betrayal. The twins would need the support of their new house, he knew they would get it.

Harry and Ginny went up to the staff table as Neville went to meet the new first years. Minerva had passed on this duty to Neville at the briefing the day before, with support of all the staff. Petunia was sat a few seats away, next to Professor Slughorn, the two had struck up a friendship as soon as they met. In fact, Petunia was proving popular amongst the staff, all of whom had been enthusiastic about helping her.

The first years entered the hall, and the sorting ceremony started. Harry spotted Martin nervously watching as he waited his turn which finally came. The hat took nearly a minute before Martin became a Gryffindor. By the end of the ceremony his house had six new boys and the same amount of girls, only Hufflepuff had gained more.

Then Professor McGonagall stood and went to the podium. "Welcome one and all to the new year at Hogwarts and welcome to our first guests this year, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Dursley and Miss Granger, who we hope will maintain what has been a close connection to the school for two of them and will be the first of many visits for Mr. Dursley. This term we will be hosting some very special visitors at the end of September, when we will receive a week long visit by the Romanian National Quidditch team, during which the team will be training for a match against the England team, to be played on our pitch on the last day of their visit. We shall therefore postpone the first school match to the following day. However, all house teams will be given the opportunity to train with the Romanians and we shall all have the chance to learn from them about Romania. Other events this term will be notified to you nearer the time."

The headmistress paused as the excitement amongst the students gradually died down and then continued. "Those wishing to join house Quidditch teams will find notices on the house boards in the common rooms. We have a number of changes to staff this year. Professor Longbottom is now wholly responsible for Herbology. I welcome Professor Evans to the school, she is uniquely qualified to teach Muggle studies. I will mention that wands will not now work in her class room or office. Professor Evans is the aunt of the head of Gryffindor house and Defence teacher Professor Potter. Before rumours spread, so far as we know she is the first Muggle to teach at Hogwarts and her first hand knowledge of Muggle life has, I have found, enabled us to improve what we can all learn of our Muggle brothers and sisters incredibly."

The students applauded as Petunia stood.

"Finally on the staff front." Professor McGonagall announced "Our new sports teacher is Professor Potter. For the benefit of the first years, we now have two Professors Potter, thanks to their wedding three weeks ago. In order to know which one we are talking about, you only need remember that whilst one teaches sport, the other, whilst undoubtedly is just as accomplished a Quidditch player, does not teach it."

The older students laughed as Ginny stood to loud applause.

The Headmistress continued once the applause had died down. "Mr. Filch, as is his habit each year, has once again added to the list of forbidden items. The full list has now been moved from his door, to the walls either side if it. Finally for now and for the benefit of first years and as a reminder to the rest of you, the forbidden forest is, as the name suggests, out-of-bounds to you all. Now, I will not delay any further, let the feast begin."

Dudley was surprised as the dishes on the table suddenly filled with food and the students helped themselves. He looked up to the teachers table and saw Madam Pomfrey who he knew well, she saw him, smiled and waved to him. Dudley smiled back, instantly feeling more relaxed, and dug in, joining in with the conversations around him where he could, otherwise he listened and learned, a concept totally alien to the old Dudley.

Dudley however soon became centre of attention, the students keen to find out about their new professor, but also interested in Dudley himself. The twins told everyone how cool his car was, the wizard born were fascinated as they described going for a ride in it. Even the Muggleborns were keen to hear about it, some having an interest in cars. Dudley was welcomed as an honorary student, despite his age, especially when it was learnt he would be working at Wheezes. Tarquin and Delilah nervously joined in, they were both trying to avoid looking at the dark looks they were receiving from the table of their former house. Hermione did notice though, she knew there would be problems for the twins, she hoped her former house would rally round them.

After the feast, Dudley wished his new friends well as they left to go up to their dormitories. He went up to the staff table, where his mother was dressed in witches robes, still talking with Slughorn.

"Hey Mum, you look fantastic." He smiled as he approached them.

"Thank you Dudley, that's quite all right. Harry and Ginny have gone to speak to their house but they say they will see you soon."

He nodded his understanding. "Are you settling in mum?"

"Yes, it's great. Everyone is so helpful. This is Horace by the way, the Potions Master, he taught your Aunt when she came here."

"Ah you must be Harry's cousin my boy." Slughorn stood and bowed. "Petunia you surely can't be old enough to have such a grown up son. It's good to meet you my boy, you must come for tea in my rooms soon."

"Found a new member for the Slug club Horace?" Smiled Minerva, as she approached, them, before he could reply she turned to Dudley. "Dudley, the Minister has asked me to arrange some sessions for you and your mother about our world. Your Mother has agreed, I am hoping you will too. While we can't teach you magic, there are things we can help with, in fact basic potions is one of those things. The teachers here have all agreed to help you both."

"That's very kind Professor and useful, I would be happy to have any lessons you feel would be useful." He replied.

"Good, we shall arrange that for you then, right I shall leave you to it, I shall see you soon Dudley, I must get on I'm afraid. Good to see you again Dudley and I am glad you are settling in well Petunia, I'll leave you in Horace's capable hands." She smiled.

They bid her goodnight and the headmistress left.

After chatting for a few minutes, Dudley bid his mother and Horace farewell and went to join Ron and Hermione to walk down to Hogsmeade and his flat above the shop.

* * *

In Gryffindor Tower the students were sat in the common room welcoming their new students including the twins. Harry and Ginny entered the common room and the students cheered.

"Welcome back Gryffindor's, and welcome to our house you new students. Prefects, I will need a word with you in a moment. Now all of you, lessons start tomorrow, but I want to say, please look after all our new students, watch out for them. All of you remember the Quidditch try outs for the house team are this weekend and I want us to retain the cup. However most importantly, remember we are here to help you. No matter what, if you need to talk, our door is open to you, our office is next door. Right, time for bed, prefects if you could hang on for a few minutes we need to speak with you, we won't keep you long." Harry said

The students started to head upstairs, the second years showing the twins the way, while some of the seventh years led the first years up. The prefects followed Harry and Ginny into their sitting room, Ginny gestured that they should sit down, she spoke first.

"Now, we want to talk to you all seriously, firstly about your head of house because he won't. As you know he has been seriously ill last year and you know why, you may remember from the end of term he was still ill. We need to tell you that although he has improved, it is not much. In fact, because he was taking a potion back then, which he can no longer take, he may seem even worse to you now than then. This information is to be kept between us only please, even from the rest of our students for now. Whilst he is ill, please, no matter what, do not let it stop you coming to us if you need to, nor discourage any others from doing so."

Harry then spoke. "Mention of my illness brings us to a request. You saw us tonight sponsor the Wolfe twin's resorting. We are trustees of them, we were asked and willingly chose to be so. They had just two living, free relatives, one of whom died last week, the other is elderly and quite ill. Those two will need the support of their new house, that said I am far more worried about the reaction of the Slytherin's at losing them, than our house at gaining them. Can we arrange that, along with the first years, an eye is kept on them and support given when needed?"

The prefects nodded.

"Yes sir, we will, of course, but are we sure they are now themselves?" One asked.

"Fair question Johnstone. We have spent quite a long time with them since their Aunt's trial. Their recovery was made in our presence, in fact those two and myself, are the only people known to have suffered what is now known as an Essence coma. They for a much shorter period than I did of course, but with the knowledge of what they went through during it, yes I am completely positive that they are them selves." Said Harry.

"That's good enough for me Professor." Johnstone smiled.

"Good" Said Ginny. "Please though, keep your knowledge of what they have been through to yourselves, if they want to tell people they will, but otherwise you are the only ones here outside the staff that knows."

They all agreed, then they left for their dormitories, leaving Harry and Ginny relieved, they knew their house had accepted its new members, for that they were thankful.

* * *

 **Authors Notes:**

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, it is one of the longest so far. Many thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter, for those who don't know I respond to reviews via the site messaging system , so long as the reviewer has logged in etc. I appreciate all reviews anyone is prepared to leave (except flames of course) and look forward to reading them.  
Until next time, my best wishes to you all and below are the Historical notes for this chapter (not that there are many this time).

Tgfoy

* * *

 **Historical notes:**

Gyruum = Jarrow

Twin's Owls names: Romulas, legendary founder of Rome.

Hersilia, Wife of Romulas.


	10. A Future to Forge

Disclaimer: As always, anything you recognise from the novels by J.K. Rowling belongs to her and I make no claim on it, anything else however is from my weird imagination.

* * *

 **Chapter 10**

 **A Future to Forge.**

 **20th Century.**

Petunia stood behind her desk, nervously watching the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw first years who were excitedly entering her classroom. In setting the time table, Minerva had ,at least theoretically, given her an easier group for her very first lesson at the school, it was also these students first class though so she felt it was important they have a good start to their lives in the castle. She had managed to arrange the room as she wanted it the day before, the house elf assigned to look after her had helped, although thanks to the new wards, even she had been unable to use magic beyond arriving and departing in this room. Dudley's computer was set up as if ready to work, along with a number of other gadgets, model cars, ships and planes were arranged alongside a number of everyday Muggle items ready to be examined and explained. The walls had been adorned with various posters and pictures featuring her son's favourite artists as well as adverts for products available in supermarkets, there was even one showing a road safety campaign she recalled from his nursery school. Although she had seen these students sorted the night before and she shared the nervous anticipation of beginning a new life in the castle with them, this was different. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves as the students sat at the desks.

"Settle down quickly, please." She called in what she hoped was a confident, but friendly voice.

The noise level dropped and the students looked to her attentively, expectantly as they each anticipated their first class at the school. Satisfied, she smiled kindly and began what she hoped would be a successful course for them. "Welcome to your first Muggle Studies class, for those who missed it in the excitement of last night, I am Professor Evans and I am new here as well. I am non magical, so didn't come to Hogwarts as a pupil, although my sister was a witch and my nephew is a Wizard so both of them did. I always wanted to come here though and was very jealous that I never could, so I would expect that I am just as excited to be here now as you are. Now you know who I am, let's find out who you all are shall we, when I read out your name, please respond and put up your hand, that way I can see who is who and of course begin to learn who you all are, right let's begin."

She turned her eyes to her desk and took the register, looking up after each name to see which of them answered, as each child responded in the manner she had asked, lowering their hands as she thanked them. The task took a little longer than it may ordinarily do, but she thought it well worth it. Once it was done, she stood and walked in front of the desk and looked at the class. "Thank you all for that, now, I will do my best to remember all your names, but that may take me a little time, I have the name of every student in the school to learn after all so for the next few lessons we shall begin in this manner, but please bare with me as I do. Right let us begin our studies with a little background, before we start looking at our subject properly. As I mentioned earlier I never came here as a child, although my sister did, as did my nephew and his wife, who I expect most of you know, however even though that means I know a little about the magical world, I do not know much. As a result, I expect I will learn much from those of you who were brought up in this world, in the same way that you will learn from those of us from the Muggle, as you may know it, world in this class." She paused letting that sink in. "I think we shall learn much from each other during these classes, about both communities, which I for one am looking forward to. Now in this class this year you will specifically learn about the Muggle world in this country, its history as it is taught to them, it's culture, traditions, customs, transport, entertainment and technology, perhaps we shall have the opportunity to experience some of them as well. We shall of course be comparing it with the wizard world and examining how the two interrelate with each other. We shall also look at the fashions for different age groups, after all it is my intention that you shall soon have enough knowledge to successfully blend seamlessly with those in the non magical world should you find yourself there at any time. However I do need to know what knowledge you already have, so could you raise your hand if you attended a Muggle primary school before coming here?"

Most of the students indicated that they had.

"Good, that means most of you have a basic knowledge at the very least, for those of you who didn't, don't worry you will soon catch up. Those of you who were brought up in this world will, I hope, help those of us who weren't to learn about it from you as well. At the very least I shall need those of you from Magical backgrounds to help us all compare the Muggle way of things, with the Wizarding way, that way we can learn from each other. You may also have noticed that I have brought into this room numerous Muggle artefacts that belong to either my son or myself, we shall today simply divide into groups of three or four and each group shall examine one of the objects. Please ensure that each group has at least one person who did not attend a Muggle school in it. Once you know the purpose of the objects your group are looking at, I want you to decide if there is a Wizarding equivalent and if so what that is. We will do that for twenty minutes, then come together and each group will report their findings to the class. Please keep the noise at a reasonable level while you work. Right, let's organise groups."

She passed between the desks and divided the class into small groups before directing them to one of the objects around the room. As they worked, she walked round the class, pleased to see that each group was engrossed in their task, she only needed to intervene in one of the groups to help identify an object that none of them had seen before, though once they knew what it was two of them had heard about it and could accurately describe it's use. When the class came back together, she went round each group in turn, getting them to report what they had discovered. Many of the students who had spent little time in the Muggle world were surprised by how many things had been achieved with technology, rather than Magic, certainly compared with what they had believed life was like for them. They had all been amazed by how many of the objects had magical equivalents, though not as much as they were by those objects that did things that Magic didn't. The discovery items for which there was no comparison in the magical world was balanced by some tasks Magic would do which the Muggles hadn't invented something to resolve as well though. This developed into a comparison of how each community viewed the other, the Muggle myths of witches and wizards, wizard myths of Muggles along with the differences between those views and the reality of both communities. It was fair to say that all the students were taken aback at what both societies had achieved and the misconceptions they had about the other, both of which were out dated at best, completely fictitious at worst. Petunia knew she had opened up a healthy discussion about a lot of their preconceptions, it was a good base to build on. She concluded the lesson by awarding points to both houses, which was well received, then setting a homework project, which was less well received. The bell sounded and Petunia dismissed the class, as Nearly Headless Nick arrived and Petunia sighed in relief.

The students left the room talking animatedly about the lesson, excited to have had first lesson so different to what they had expected, unknowingly they had started the Hogwarts grapevine into motion.

"Sounds like it went well, Professor, they seem to have enjoyed it." The ghost smiled.

"Yes, I think they did." She replied. "At least I hope I've put in the beginnings of foundations that will allow them to build on. Hopefully, we shall be able to ensure they each know enough to get on in either community. Now I have no more classes to teach until after lunch today, so I need to go to my first Potions session with Horace, if you would be so kind Sir Nicholas?"

"Why certainly, my Lady, it would be my honour." He grinned, bowing, ensuring his head stayed in place not wanting to scare the Professor.

Petunia enjoyed the rest of her day, her introduction to Potions had gone well, she had enjoyed Chemistry lessons at school as a child and could see parallels with that which she enjoyed. She had held a similar lesson to the one she had conducted earlier, with the second class of first years after lunch, which had been received just as well as the first, as had her first second year class as well. She was tired, but content as she sat with her colleagues in the staff room after dinner that evening, chatting about the first day of term and how she felt it had gone, discussing how she could link it to other classes. During the discussion, she asked why there was no equivalent about the Wizarding world for those raised in the Muggle world, a question that stumped them all. Minerva was horrified it had not been considered before, although it was too late to add it to the timetables, she would arrange for it to be added to the evening activities of the school as soon as she could, the staff agreeing to share the duty between them.

Dudley too, was enjoying his first full day in Hogsmeade and starting his new job properly. He arrived at Weasley's new factory unit, nervous, but excited about being at the beginning of this new venture. Although it was very large inside, much larger than Grunnings, Dudley was amazed that outside it did not look out of place with the rest of the buildings in the village. It didn't even look to be the largest building in the community, appearing no larger than the shop in front of it. Ron had shown him round Hogsmeade and introduced him to a number of the residents during his visits in the last week. Dudley was, in fact, the only resident Muggle in the village, but was made to feel welcome by all those he met and had become part of the community as a result. Having been round the village, Ron had then shown him round the shop and the new factory which Dudley would be running, now that everything was in place. Dudley had, of course been before with George, but had spent most of his time in the Diagon Alley shop learning about the business and it's products. Together with George and Ron, he had been on the panel which had interviewed and appointed the remaining staff for the warehouse, they had managed to fill all the positions needed as well as carrying out inductions for them. Today was the first day that all the staff would be together to work in the new building, ensuring everything was in place for the formal opening at the weekend. Dudley went upstairs to his office as soon as he arrived, he was soon joined by all of. the department supervisors they had appointed. Ron, as head of the Hogsmeade shop, joined them for the briefing before the rest of the staff was due.

Dudley looked round at his senior staff, the witches and wizards he would be relying on to ensure each section worked smoothly. He had of course met them individually, but this was the first time they had all been together. "Good to see you all again." He smiled, "Perhaps, as although Ron and I have already met you all individually, this is the first time we have all been together, it would be best to introduce ourselves first, though you all already know Ron Weasley who runs our Hogsmeade shop and myself, general manager of this facility."

The four heads of the plant's departments smiled and one by one introduced themselves. There was Gemma Piper Owen, a twenty something Witch who had previously worked in the Hogsmeade shop dealing with the mail orders there, a duty she would be continuing, overseeing the expanded department in the new facility including the welfare of the delivery owls . Joe Barnes was a middle aged wizard who had previously worked in the warehouses of Nimbus Brooms, he would be supervising the Factory supplies warehouse section, Mainly deliveries from suppliers, he and his staff would also be distributing supplies to the factory section. Cassandra was in her thirties and had left a job in Flourish and Blotts to oversee the factory section, including quality control. Finally the other side of the warehouse was to be overseen by Jethro Marshbanks, who would receive the tested products from the factory, ready for the stores to await distribution to one of the two shops or upstairs to the mail order department. Introductions completed, Dudley and Ron briefed them all on what remained to be done before full operation could start. The supervisors would brief their staff, assigning tasks at departmental meetings later this morning. Once the meeting was over they each went off to begin the work to ensure that all would be ready for full operation quickly.

Dudley walked round the large building at mid morning, ensuring he spoke to every member of staff, making sure they knew who he was and listening to what they had to say. He had realised that it was vital to hear any ideas from the staff, especially in the early days and weeks as they ironed out any unforeseen problems. His staff were on the front line and in the best position to see how the task they were undertaking could be done to best advantage. In his own office he had two secretaries, one dealing with internal admin, the other acted as a receptionist for the Plant, he had ensured both knew he was approachable. The mail order department was just outside his office and it was currently in a state of mild disarray as the six members of staff were unpacking catalogues and labelling them ready for distribution in the packing area, as well as familiarising themselves with where products could be found in the stores. The warehouse areas were swiftly being organised and the assembly section was already being productive.

At lunchtime Poppy arrived from the castle to weigh Dudley. He was losing weight well and she was monitoring his progress each day from now on. This weekend he would be taking the antidote, by which time they both hoped he would have reached his target weight.

"Still feeling alright, Dudley?" Poppy asked once she had weighed him.

"Yes fine, though a little guilty at the amount I ate at the feast last night." He grinned. "Don't tell mum, but it was the best dinner I've had for a long time, better than her cooking."

"Don't worry, I won't tell." Poppy reassured him. " The Elves would be very pleased to hear that though, anyway I am not concerned, a meal like that once in a while shouldn't affect the potion as long as you don't have that much every day and I know you aren't so don't trouble yourself over it Dudley. Right now how are you settling in? Enjoying your new job and home?"

"Oh just fine, I find it fascinating living here, but it's the things that are the same that are most surprising really, although there does seem to be a slower pace to life here. I haven't even yet fully unpacked, but I'm getting there. The flat over the shop is great. Ron and Hermione have invited me to eat with them each evening, until I'm settled. Though Maria comes over every evening to help me too"

The healer grinned. "Well that's good, your mum is settling in up at the school too, her first class went well this morning from what I have heard too. Right, we are done here, everything is fine, progressing well, so I'll get back. I shall see you tomorrow, same time if that's alright with you Dud."

Dudley nodded then watched her depart, before he returned his attention to work.

The afternoon started with a full staff meeting, ensuring all were happy with how things were progressing, with all staff from the cleaner to Dudley welcome to make suggestions. The Assembly workers had discovered a glitch in the system for receiving the supplies they needed, this was resolved in consultation with the warehouse staff. The warehouse had just received the second delivery of new catalogues over lunch, so they would be transferred to the shops and mail order section from where they could be distributed. Dudley assured Gemma he would pass on the latest additions to the mailing list, responses to this mornings advert in the Daily Prophet, to her after the meeting, so they could fulfil them this afternoon. She also raised the issue of caring for the Owls, she could see that all the departments' staff would be too busy to do that task once they were open fully and receiving orders at full capacity. She pointed out that it may well become a full time job, one which none of the staff currently employed had enough experience of, they would soon need someone to specialise, rather than rely on her department to look after them. Dudley could see this was an oversight which needed to be resolved urgently, after some discussion, during which Dudley learnt an outline of just how much was required to look after one owl, never mind forty, he agreed to talk to George and Ron about employing someone as an owl keeper. Another issue was raised by the cafeteria staff, which would mean adjusting the layout of the counters, to minimise the waiting time at Lunch time, the changes were quickly agreed. There were a couple of other minor glitches, each of which were quickly resolved.

Dudley then closed the meeting. "Thank you all for this and please be assured that although we shall be having Staff meetings regularly, the management part of the team will listen and pass up any ideas in between meetings. Any ideas will be considered whoever they come from, if we can we shall trial it as soon as possible. George is also keen that any ideas for products are aired, if we end up making it, then a percentage of the profit from it will be added to the wage of whoever suggested it. We shall meet up again soon to let you know about the official opening, in the meantime let's put everything into practice and see if it works."

An hour later the warehouse and Assembly lines were working well, and over three hundred customers had already received the new catalogue, the first order from it arriving at the very end of the day, just as they were finishing. Any owls arriving over night would be able to either rest in the Owlery, or leave their letter in a mailbox there instead. By the end of the day Dudley had been able to tell Gemma that Hagrid had volunteered to come in every evening to look after the owls' needs, at least until a permanent arrangement could be made. Dudley sat cuddling Maria in his flat, relaxing after a long, but productive day. In half an hour Maria would have to go home, but right now he reflected that his life really could not be any better.

The twins, too, were happy, they had been welcomed without question by their fellow second year Gryffindor's last night and this morning, even the older students in their new house had made sure the twins knew they belonged now. Today they, along with the rest of the students, had started lessons, their first had been potions, with Professor Slughorn, who was treating them just as he did everyone, although once he had set the class their task and was making his rounds of the desks, he spoke particularly to the twins.

"Now you two, have you settled into your new house?"

"Yes sir." answered Tarquin.

"Good. I was sorry to see you go from Slytherin house of course, but I am glad you are settling in well. You might find your old house mates a little less keen, I'm afraid, I have warned them I will not tolerate any kind of attacks on you. Even so, sadly, I suspect some of them may attempt some form of retribution for the loss of you from our house, knowing what students can be like. I advise that you stay close to your new friends when not in class, at least until the dust settles."

"Yes sir, thank you." Delilah smiled "We know that the rivalry between houses might be a problem, and our fellow Gryffindor's have said they will keep an eye out for us."

Slughorn nodded, then continued his rounds. At the end of the lesson, the twins had produced a good cauldron of the potion and earned points for their house, leaving the classroom for Herbology, feeling proud of themselves.

As they left, the other Gryffindor second years joined them and they all walked to the greenhouses. They passed a group of Slytherin's in the entrance hall, they said nothing, but glared at the twins and the group as they walked by chatting and laughing, headed for the door.

The week passed quickly for the twins, their lessons went well, they settled in well to Gryffindor, making new friends and they had only had a couple of minor comments from their old house mates so far. The weekend was to be a busy one, because of the visitors coming at the end of the month, all four houses held Quidditch try outs. Slytherin and Ravenclaw on Saturday, whilst Hufflepuff and Gryffindor had theirs scheduled for Sunday. Although when it came to the sport rivalry between the houses was, of course, as high as usual, the normal spying at the teams try outs would be unnecessary, the whole school were aware of when each of them would take place and almost the entire student population would attend. As a result, there was little chance of having many secrets about who would be on the teams this year and the expected vacancies on the teams were well already well known. The Gryffindor team had lost two chasers over the summer, last year's having graduated. However, for the second year running, the Slytherin team would need to select for most of the positions. Slytherin house had lost most of their seventh and sixth years back in February, following the attack! on Harry and Ginny, when many from those years had tried to defend the Vengeance soldiers who had carried out the attack. The fact that none of them had returned to the school this year, had decimated the strength of the team. Only Styles, the Keeper, remained from the previous year's team and so was now the team captain by default, it would be interesting to see if he would take the opportunity to pick a team that broke the mould of the thuggish mould that the Slytherin team had been in recent years.

As sports mistress, Ginny supervised the try-outs, and was available to the captains to advise on methods of testing the abilities of candidates. However she would not interfere in the choices made, not even for Gryffindor, that was up to the captains themselves.

Only six people tried out for the Slytherin team, so for the second year running it was a brief session. Styles, the team captain, had no choice, but to simply choose them. He then made them fly for all positions, so he could see which they were best suited to. He had no problem with which would be beaters and chasers, leaving one as seeker by default. Unfortunately he was not that skilled at the position and would need much training, but he had been worse at the other positions and was a willing volunteer. Ginny decided to talk to Horace about the team, she understood that of all the houses Slytherin was now the smallest in number, but even taking that into account, there should have been more that were willing to try out for the team. She hoped others were not being put off by the ones who had volunteered or others, regardless that team would need to practise an awful lot to become coherent unit to play competitively. The Slytherin's left the pitch after just half an hour to change, the spectators leaving to wander the grounds or do homework until lunch.

After lunch, the Ravenclaw captain spent two hours selecting a team from the remains of last years and the hopefuls who wanted to try out, of which there were plenty to choose from. The captain had decided to run tests for the positions, even last year's team members competed for their place. In the end only one completely new member was selected and was an excellent find of a second year as Keeper, the others had all retained their positions from the previous year. Unlike the Slytherin's, the team remained on the pitch until an hour before dinner, using the time to practice and begin to gel together as a team. The gathered students of all houses applauded them loudly, when they eventually left the pitch, appreciating the entertaining afternoon they had provided.

Harry was watching with Ginny from the edge of the pitch. "They are going to be a good strong team this year." He said appreciatively, as the chasers flew, passing the Quaffle between them taking a shot at goal which the new keeper skilfully saved.

"Yes, a good well balanced team, unlike the Slytherin's sadly. I think Styles has a team that's strength will be simply brute force, not that poor Styles had much choice in it." Ginny commented. "I think, as sports professor, I am going to need to get to the bottom of why there are so few in Slytherin willing to try out each year, there are some good flyers in that house who just don't bother. There were a few out on the pitch last night for that impromptu obstacle course racing we put on for those who were practising for the trials, who showed real skill. Not one of them showed up this morning though, it would be interesting to know why."

Harry nodded "Probably selected in the common room, rather than on the pitch. They are going to be a difficult team to predict, but yes it is a worry that some of the more talented ones are not taking the chance, the league teams will miss out as well if it continues."

The next morning, Hufflepuff's captain methodically selected her team. Last year's seeker lost his place to a very skilled second year and they replaced a beater who had left, together with their keeper. Ginny thought the new team was a fairly solid one despite the changes, but as she watched them fly in the time remaining to them she saw that they needed more imagination in their set piece plays to gain flexibility in their tactics. The old seeker, a seventh year, appeared to be disappointed at first, but had congratulated his successor, then confided in Ginny that although he didn't want to show it, he was in fact rather relieved to be able to concentrate on studying for his NEWT's without team practice to fit in as well this year.

Tarquin and Delilah enthusiastically ate a quick lunch, before collecting their brooms and rushing eagerly to the changing rooms to get ready for the Gryffindor try outs. When they emerged with the other candidates, the new team captain sorted them all into the position they wanted to try for and then started the trial. He was a chaser, and missed his old partners, who had graduated at the end of last term, so he left that selection to last to enable him to fly with each of the candidates and assess how well they all worked together.

The twins had thought it would be difficult to adjust their style to accommodate a third chaser, but in the event, whilst they naturally found it easy to anticipate each other's moves, they found they were able to integrate the team captain easily, though obviously they would need to practise together to make it as smooth as it could be. Landing at the end of their trial, he announced his verdict with an excited grin on his face.

"Well, I think we have found potentially two of the best chasers I have seen, especially for their age. With practice and game experience they could easily make the league if they want to when they are older, at least in my opinion. We will, of course have to work on different plays together, but from that trial, I think we would all gel together well. I will try out the others, but they are going to have a hard job beating you two." He said to them, clearly pleased.

The other hopefuls for chasers all took their turns, some were good players, others not so and half an hour later the Captain gathered the rest of his chosen team together in a huddle. All of them had been on the team the year before and had won their places back earlier in the afternoon. They all seemed to come to an agreement and the captain turned to face all the hopefuls.

"Well, I'm grateful to you all for trying out, but I think you all know that two of you stood out from the rest. I am glad they came to our house this year; I would hate to have had to face them in a game. Our one worry is their lack of experience in a variety of weather conditions, but we all had that before joining a team. I am sure that with them in it, we will have as strong a team as we had before the war. So, well done Delilah and Tarquin, you're in." He smiled. "We shall however also be having a complete reserve team for the first time in years, all of whom will join us for practice, it might be that we play a reserve occasionally in place of a first team member so it will help us all improve too. Only Hufflepuff have managed that for a while, though I don't know if they have this year, anyway I shall post the names of those chosen on the common room notice board later today."

The twins were ecstatic, as first the captain, then Coates the seeker, then the rest of the team shook their hands happily. Even the others who had tried out were happy for them as they all went in to get changed, each knew they were indeed the best choice for the team. They left the changing rooms a little later with the rest of the team, all chatting excitedly about the forthcoming season. A group of Slytherin's were waiting outside; they moved to intercept the Gryffindor's.

"Got your turn coats then? No wonder Potter had them re-sorted, he wants his house to have an unfair advantage." The Slytherin captain sneered.

"What's your problem Styles? Worried that because they were chosen in the common room again, your house has the worst team in the school. Perhaps if they learned one end of a broom from the other, they might get in the air." The Gryffindor captain retorted and led his team back to the castle, the twins safely in the middle of the group, out of harms way.

In the common room the captain took the twins to one side. "I get the feeling the Slytherin's are going to try to intimidate you two, that out there was mostly just the usual sour grapes from his sort, he learnt it from past team captains, whatever you do don't take it personally. Just know this, you have made the team because you deserve it, don't let them saying any different put any doubt about that in your minds. From what I can tell and what I have seen of you this year, you are now in the house you always should have been, that is one thing I am certain of. It took real bravery to come back to the school, not to mention be resorted and come into this house. Yes we all want to keep the Potters happy, they deserve it, but you have already made a good impression on us all. Perhaps that is much against what we feared when you were resorted, but that is down to you, the way you two have gone about things since you got her, well done."

The twins nodded and thanked him, then went to write to Maggie, to tell her they had made the team.

Harry and Ginny were pleased the twins had been chosen for the team and had seen the rest of the Gryffindor's rally round them when the Slytherin's had taunted them. Ginny was also pleased that her first major task, the four house team trials themselves, had gone relatively well, the Slytherin one being the only concern. Once the Gryffindor team had gone back up to the castle, they had gone to visit Hagrid and were sat outside his hut, watching students enjoying the last of the summer weather on the grounds, some even paddling in the shallows of the lake. They were glad to see the twins settling into their new house so well, but knew that the Slytherin's would not let the fact they had lost the best chasers in the school rest, the honeymoon period was over for the youngsters.

Suddenly they heard a series of screams from the lake, Harry and Ginny stood quickly, alarmed and with wands out almost instantly, Hagrid had shot to his feet as well, umbrella in hand. They looked up towards the sound, then burst into laughter. The had looked over just as the screams were renewed and in time to see one of the Giant squids tentacles fall into the lake near the paddling students, sending a wave of water over them. The students, far from running away after the initial surprise, began encouraging the squid and enjoying the showers of water that were being sent over them. The three members of staff settled back into their seats, content there was no real threat to the students, but kept an eye on what was going on in the grounds. A few minutes later, they saw Horace and Petunia walking along the drive, back up to the castle. They knew that Horace had accompanied her to see the village properly and of course for her to visit Dudley, although they saw each other quite often when he came up to the castle for his lessons.

"Who would have thought to see that a few weeks ago?" Said Ginny, grinning.

"I know!" Laughed Harry. "Horace has taken a great interest in Aunt, I wonder if he is looking to become my step Uncle?" He joked.

"I don't think Petunia's ready for a new relationship just yet Harry, besides you know Horace, I think it's more to do with memories of your mum. After all she was one of his favourites when she was here, still if his company helps Petunia, then it's all to the good." Ginny said seriously.

"I know love, I was kidding." He smiled and cuddled her.

They finished their drinks and said goodbye to Hagrid then set off back up to the castle themselves. As they crossed the lawns they spotted a familiar owl fly from the school, heading quickly to the south.

"That will be the twins letting Maggie know." Ginny grinned as they watched the Owl disappear over the mountains beyond the lake.

"I see it's Romulus heading south today." Harry acknowledged.

The twins had written to Maggie every day so far, the owls taking it in turns to fly to London and back with the reply, sometimes crossing in the air. Molly had actually written back each time for Maggie, who was not well enough to write them for herself, but instead she dictated what she wanted to say for Molly to write. Maggie's health was deteriorating steadily, she knew she may not have long to live, but seemed content with that. She had plenty of visitors, including Molly and Arthur. Oliver Gresley came often, as did Andromeda with Teddy, who always cheered her up. Kingsley visited as often as he could, at least three times a week, reassuring Molly he was not over working as Ginny and Harry had discovered him doing almost a year ago.

Molly was visiting Maggie when Romulus arrived in the hospital on Monday morning, the twins two owls had been allowed through the wards protecting St Mungo's, allowing the twins to keep the regular contact with their Aunt. It had not been a problem for that to be arranged, many of the staff were still fond of the twins from their stay under their care, they had ensured security adjusted the wards accordingly, to allow the Owls through instead of being diverted to the hospital mail department. Apparently the head of security had not even needed to be pressured, the hospital grapevine had told him it was not a good idea to even attempt to prevent it, or risk the wrath of the majority of the female staff in the hospital. Molly read the letter out to Maggie, while the owl took a drink and rested on the perch in the room. Maggie smiled as Molly read to her, about the events of the day before at Hogwarts. She had been pleased they had been sorted into Harry's house and knew they would have been over the moon that they had made the house team. Molly wrote the reply Maggie dictated, ready to send back with Romulus later, after the owl had rested and then Maggie looked at Molly.

"What did Arthur say to my idea, my dear? Did you have a chance to discuss it with him?"

"I did and he agreed Maggie without a moments hesitation, but only if it's necessary and we both know you will get better. Ron says your cottage at Hogsmeade is nearly ready for you to move into, just the moment you are well enough and the twins will be with you in the holidays."

"Molly, please, don't. I would love for that to be the case, but we both know it isn't really. I need to know they will be looked after, I'm not going to be able to look after them again, or be there for them, you know that really. Not that I don't appreciate your optimism trying to cheer me up, I just don't need it, I have come to terms with the truth of it Molly, really I have. Our arrangement will only come into force when my time comes, they deserve to know they won't be on their own, that they will have people who care about them. I am their legal Guardian, their father at least had enough sense to relinquish his parental rights to Eli and I the moment the trial was done, with Eli gone now, all I am doing is making sure they will be fine and have stability after I join him."

"You don't need to worry Maggie, Arthur and I will do it, of course we will, if they haven't come of age when you do go. We shall sign the papers this evening, Arthur is coming after work, while Oliver's here so he will act as witness to it for us." Molly soothed.

Maggie smiled then closed her eyes, her steady breathing told Molly she was sleeping. A healer came in and greeted her, then ran her wand over Maggie, she slowly shook her head as she took out her quill and wrote notes the charts at the bottom of the bed.

"She's getting worse isn't she?" Molly asked.

"I'm afraid so, we are monitoring her hourly now and she is deteriorating a little each time I'm afraid. I think the end will be soon for the poor dear." The healer replied.

"I had better let them know at Hogwarts then, get the twins down here tomorrow perhaps, to see her." Molly commented sadly.

"If she is still with us by then." Said the healer. "I am not sure she will last the night out tonight to be honest, she is fading steadily, but she is reaching that stage I'm afraid."

"Well I will let the school know. The children are her next of kin, they might get them here today if I Floo Minerva soon." Molly said.

Andromeda arrived with Teddy, the two women talked briefly, then Molly went to Floo the school from the ward office with the healer, while her friend sat with the sleeping Maggie, Teddy playing quietly on the floor as he usually did until Maggie awoke and enjoyed making a fuss of him.

Harry, Ginny and Minerva were discussing how the Quidditch trials had gone and the forthcoming visit of the Bulgarian team. They had finalised all the arrangements they could, until more information arrived from the Bulgarians, so Harry took the opportunity to raise the happy problem they shared over their elves.

"Minerva." Harry began. "Now that we have done all we can on Quidditch for now, I think we had better talk about Kreacher and Winky, this seems to be the first chance any of us have had since the start of term. They have spoken with us formally and we have also approved of their desire to marry, so what happens now? Kreacher said we needed to get together about it, but neither of us knows what we should do next about it."

"Ah yes, I was going to ask if they had managed to speak to you yet." Minerva smiled "Officially, we do need to discuss it because officially they are from different households, so usually the two owners would have to discuss replacing the female elf, who would join the Male's family. That said, Winky is only here through being a free elf, she came with Dobby, so is an employee, not bound to the Castle as our other elves are. Hogwarts will not require a replacement elf, but we must do something or they will be offended and the other Elves would find it very odd."

"Yes the circumstances are a bit different, how about we put some money into the scholarship fund or something?" Asked Harry.

"Yes that's one possibility." Said Minerva thoughtfully. "Yes it is a good idea, but the school already has a number of bursaries for scholarships, I was thinking of nothing quite so grand. How would you feel about replacing some of the school brooms, you know how old the ones we have are?" She suggested.

"Yes, or could we do something for the elves, do their quarters need improving." Asked Harry, thinking of Hermione as he said it.

"Oh now that is an excellent idea Harry, I should have thought about that myself. Yes the quarters could do with a revamp and refurbishment, the governors have been reluctant to spend much on such a scheme, so anything you want to do for it would be a great help and benefit to the school. However we need to balance that with how much improvement the Elves would accept, so we cannot instantly make improve it too much." The headmistress smiled. "They mustn't think we are doing too much for them, perhaps look at a single thing to do."

This was agreed, and the two elves were summoned to be told the news.

Kreacher and Winky were delighted with the idea, even more so when asked what would benefit their fellows most, without offending them by being too much in one go. After a brief discussion between the two Elves they suggested that more beds were the most desperate need as they currently had to share the small bunks in shifts, an Elf going to bed the moment another rose to begin work. While the Elves didn't mind this, Kreacher knew the benefit he had got from having a decent bed and knew they would do their tasks better properly rested in a bed of their own.

Suddenly Molly's head appeared in the office fire place.

"Oh thank goodness, I have caught you all together." Molly said. "I'm at St Mungo's, visiting Maggie, just nipped out to Floo you. I'm afraid she is getting worse, the healers are not sure how much longer she will last. They suggest that if the twins are to see her again, it needs to be today. Could they possibly be excused from classes for the afternoon, to visit her please Minerva?"

"Of course they can Molly, we don't have to do it often thankfully, but in such circumstances we have always made allowances for that to happen, we will sort that out for her." Minerva answered in a business like way, before her shoulders slumped and her demeanour saddened. "Those poor children, how much more are they going to have to go through, first their mother dies, then there's the way that woman Umbridge treated them. At last they get the love they deserve from Maggie and Eli, only for first Eli and now Maggie to die. Another change in their lives in only a few months, more uncertainty is the last thing they need, not that there is much choice for any of them. Where on earth will those two go next?"

Molly sighed. "I know Minerva, but don't worry. Maggie is a determined witch, she and Eli had discussed things between them and she has made arrangements for them with a family the twins know well already. Anyway, we are not at that stage just yet, though realistically we could be, either today or tomorrow in all probability they say. I'll go let the Healers know the twins will be here shortly, thank you Minerva, I'll see you all soon I expect."

As Molly's head disappeared, Minerva turned to Harry.

He nodded understanding. "I'll tell them Minerva, they know us, besides I'm head of their house, so it's down to me and either Ginny or myself will go with them, I am sure they will they want to go and see her."

"Thank you Harry, but let Ginny go with them. As you say, you are the Head of Gryffindor so are responsible for the whole house as well. You need to let the rest of your house know what is happening, so they can be there to support the twins if needed. You also have a class to teach this afternoon, Ginny doesn't, so it's better that she goes rather than you, unless the twins specifically would prefer you or someone else to go with them of course."

Ginny nodded. "I would think it would be one of us two Minerva, of the staff the only other they might pick would probably be Petunia I should think, but they know she is new to our world so won't know how to get there and back."

"Yes I would think that is certainly true that it will be one of you two, no disrespect to Petunia at all of course. That said we should be prepared for them to surprise us perhaps, after all that is one thing they are good at." The headmistress nodded. "I shall alert the other staff so they understand if the twins are not themselves for a while and they can be ready to help them if needed."

Harry and Ginny nodded sadly, but knew their colleagues would move heaven and earth to help any student who found themselves in a similar situation without a moments hesitation. They left the office and headed down to the Great Hall, where they would find the twins having lunch. Harry collected the twins where they had been happily chatting with the other set of Gryffindor twins in their year. The four had struck up a friendship since the first day of term, Tarquin and Delilah even teaching them Twin speak, with George's permission of course, not that he had needed persuading, he had burst out laughing when Harry described the four way conversations they all now confused others with. Having collected Tarquin and Delilah, Harry took them swiftly up towards his office, while Ginny quietly asked the prefects to come up in ten minutes with Martin and the other twins. She joined Harry and the twins at the top of the main stairs.

Harry was talking gently to them."Delilah, Tarquin, while we were with the headmistress we received a message from Mrs. Weasley about Maggie. I'm afraid it's not good news, it seems she is not doing very well at all, as a matter of fact she is getting worse. So we want to give you a chance to go and see her if you want to, Ginny will go with you so you aren't alone, unless you would rather I or another teacher go with you instead." He smiled kindly. "So would you like to go to see her?"

"She is dying isn't she." Delilah whispered softly, looking to Ginny.

Ginny nodded. "I'm afraid that's what healers think, I'm really sorry to say it, but this might be your last chance to talk with her. Mrs. Weasley, Mrs. Tonks and Teddy are there waiting, if you want to go. The plan is you will be back for dinner." Ginny said as comfortingly as she could.

"I want to see her." Tarquin said firmly, his eyes betraying his sadness, tears were beginning to form in them.

"So do I." Delilah agreed, suddenly determined. "Harry I'm sorry, but do you mind if Ginny takes us, I know she hasn't got a class to teach this afternoon and you have, besides you also need a sleep.

Harry smiled and put a hand on each of the twins' shoulders. "I don't mind that at all." He said, grinning. "Ginny and you two will Floo to St. Mungo's when we get to our office then."

They reached the office and Ginny left with the Twins, Harry waited for the Prefects and the twins closest friends to arrive a few minutes later. Once they had, he sat them down and explained what was going on, he didn't need to ask them to be there for the twins, they each instantly offered to help them. He looked at them proudly, assured that in Gryffindor at least, caring about their fellows was simply a natural part of life.

Maggie had brightened at their visit, but the twins recognised it was largely a show for their benefit, and not the reality. Maggie had reassured them, telling them not to worry as she had made sure they had a family who would look after them well when she was gone. She told them she was proud of them making the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and that she hoped they did well. They had told her about their new friends and life in the new house, but despite her pleasure at seeing them she had tired quickly and fallen to sleep, though the twins held her hands as they had since they had arrived. She had woken again about an hour before the twins had to go back to the school, they had all continued chatting, Maggie enjoying her time with the twins, but all to soon it was time to say goodbye, before they left with Ginny, to return to the school.

The twins were naturally upset when they returned to Harry's office, where he was asleep in a chair, he awoke as they stepped from the fire.

"Back already, what time is it?" He asked.

"Nearly time for dinner Harry." Ginny smiled.

"Oh right. " He smiled then looked to the twins. "Are you two all right, do you need to talk, or do you want to go down for dinner?"

The twins told him about the visit and how Maggie had reassured them.

"But, what does she mean about living with someone else? Who?" Asked Tarquin.

"I don't know for certain, but I think I could hazard a guess." Smiled Harry "I think Maggie has made sure you will never be on your own again, if it comes to it."

Ginny was stood behind the twins and smiling, nodded as they looked up at her. "And I think she knows you will have lots of fun with them too."

"But, will we still see you two, even after you finish here?" Delilah enquired puzzled.

"Oh, I think we can guarantee that." Said Harry grinning. "Come on, as Ron would say, I'm starving."

The twins were very puzzled, though quite a bit happier as they walked down for dinner that evening with their teachers, but did not ask anything more.

Kingsley and Arthur had arrived about twenty minutes after the twins had left the hospital. Maggie was still awake and immediately asked the Minister for the papers to arrange the security of the twins. She signed them, then watched as Molly and Arthur signed to show they agreed, then the minister witnessed it.

The twins' future was now secure, She looked round them all. "Thank you all for everything, please tell them I am sorry to leave them, I know they will have a good life now, I wish we could have had longer with them, but I am happy they will have the life they deserve." She looked more content than she had since Eli had died, it wasn't long before she fell asleep assured she had done all she could. It was to be a sleep from which she would never wake.

* * *

 **10th Century.**

Orin grinned, as his great nephew rushed round the house excitedly. The boy had looked forward to this day since meeting Utred, just before the lad had turned six years old, a little over five years ago. That had also been the day that Orin had been reunited with his brother and met his family, this family. The boy had been proud to receive a wand his great uncle had made for him on his eleventh birthday. He had watched closely as the wood, Rowan, had been shaped and a core of unicorn tail hair added, he had been fascinated at the process. The components had eagerly chosen the boy as his hand had passed over them, the twelve inch wand that resulted was a powerful tool that had bonded with its owner in spectacular fashion, as was usual in the family of wand makers. In common with the other houses in the village, it was a narrow fronted long house, with a plot of land behind it. It was larger than some, stretching back further from the street than its neighbouring properties and had been among the earliest built here. The walls were woven willow sticks from the side of the great lake, covered in mud mixed with dung and hair, the roof thickly thatched with heather, a wooden door protected the entrance at the front. Unlike the other houses, they didn't have a stall in front, but the front of the house was the workshop, where people came to have their wands choose them. It was also where the wands were made, from the materials that chose the Wizard, they had no stock wands, each was made to order. Behind the workshop was where the family lived, a large hearth in the centre provided heat and cooked the food. Hams and dried fish hung from the rafters, furs covered the seats and a loom leant against the wall. Storage pots and spare pans were on shelves, or also hanging from the roof timbers in this area of the house. Further back the room had a large platform accessed by a ladder where the family slept. Toki and his siblings slept on low beds covered with thick furs to one side, his parents on the over side of a woven wall that divided the space. Below was similarly divided, it had been since Orin had returned to provide him with his own room without him having to climb the ladder. Next to it was a storage area and larder, with the door to the outside area, where they had a pig sty, toilet and rubbish pit as well as a small area of vegetables growing.

"Toki, calm down lad, are you ready to go yet? It's almost time to go you know." The boy's father called.

"Nearly, just need my wand. I thought it was on my bed, but I can't find it." The boy called.

"It's behind your ear, dear." His mother laughed. "Come on now, Uncle Orin is going to take you up to the school to be sorted."

"Thanks mum." The boy took the wand from his ear and placed it in the holster on his forearm, that his father had given him, made by the new Cordwainer that had settled in the village.

He happily hugged his mother and younger siblings, his father gripped the boy's shoulders as they said farewell. Toki would live at the school, visiting home on days he had no lessons, sometimes probably not even then depending what was going on at the castle. Orin and Toki set off on the walk through the village up to the school, everyone they saw calling their best wishes, hoping that Toki would enjoy himself, as they passed, he was well known in Hogsmeade as were his family as the only wand makers known to still be in Britain. Toki knew his family history, they had been crafters of wands for generations, well over a thousand years according to the writings kept in the family closet, although not always in the village they were one of the oldest Wizarding families, though not the only one in the community either.

Other than Toki starting at the school, it was a most usual day in the settlement, the front of each house set as a stall, selling whatever wares the family that occupied that property traded in, while the men worked on making more of their wares, or teaching their sons the trade, the rest of the family would be tending to household duties. Smoke rose from the long houses, where the women were busy about their tasks and the children either helped, did their chores or played. The street bustled as witches and wizards went about their business, Toki spotted children playing, yesterday he had been with them, but today he was starting his new life.

He knew he was one of a group of students starting at the school today, but he was the only one from the village this time, the only one of them who knew the castle or any of the people in it. He knew the founders and teachers already, he knew many of the students, but it was Lord Utred and the Creaftas that he knew the best, he could not remember a time when they had not been welcome guests in his parents house, even so he was excited and nervous. He also knew that he and the other new students were the first to arrive not knowing which of the founders was to be their mentor, which of the houses he would be in. Godric had explained there was a new ceremony to sort the students between the houses, he was glad of that, he liked all four of the founders, although he had to admit that Salazar scared him. Even so, he had not looked forward to having to choose between them, as he had feared he would have to. Salazar, Rowena, Helga and Godric had been frequent visitors, he had worried that choosing to be one's apprentice over the others would upset them, all were like a part of his family and he could no more chose between them than he could his family.

They had left the village behind them, walking up the well trodden track through the ancient wood which grew on either side of the lane that led between the castle and village, he had often been hunting in it with his father or Utred and his friends. They passed through the gates and walked up the track, the castle looming above them, appearing to glow bright orange in the sunset, its windows casting yellow flame light piercing the walls , glowing and flickering from within. Orin looked down at him reassuringly as they climbed the steps to the door, the sound of the chatter of the students rolling over them as they stepped into the entrance hall where they were greeted by Rowena.

"Good to see you Orin, a place has been set for you up at the staff table, we expected you might wish to stay to see Toki sorted at least." She smiled.

"My thanks Rowena, I hoped I would be able, but don't want to impose."

"Nonsense, for you it is no imposition, you know you are welcome here any time Orin." The witch replied fondly.

The old man turned to his great nephew. "I'll see you inside Toki, we are all proud of you son."

Toki nodded and grinned excitedly.

Rowena giggled. "Come on Toki, the other new students are waiting, we shall follow your uncle into the Hall in a moment when all is ready." She led him to a side room whilst Orin entered the Great Hall and made his way to the seat he knew had been placed ready for him.

In the room sat two other boys and three girls, all looking a little scared, Rowena indicated that Toki should sit with them. Once he had, she conjured a chair and sat in front of them.

"I am sorry to keep you all waiting, but we needed you all to be here first." She smiled kindly. "Now, there is no need to be worried. I know it is all a bit daunting and seeing Hogwarts for the first time is overwhelming, especially as all six of you are from small places, though Toki grew up seeing the castle being built. I swear to you that nothing untoward is going to happen to any of you this evening during the sorting, in fact it is a celebration in the school whenever new students arrive. That is especially true tonight as you six will be the first sorted in this way, a new way we have created to ensure it is fair to all, instead of us or you trying to choose when we are just starting to get to know each other. In a few moments we shall enter the Great Hall where all the staff and students are waiting to welcome you, don't worry they are almost all friendly, I have them fairly well trained by now, well usually anyway." She grinned, the six youngsters smiled nervously, then continued. "You will be sorted into your house, once we reach the front of the hall. For those of you who, unlike Toki who grew up in the Village so already knows, there are four houses in the school, each headed by one of us founders who each favour different qualities in our students. Your house will be a bit like a family while you are here and each has an area in the castle to call its own, though of course you are welcome to spend time with any of your friends, who you might make here, from other houses in your or their common areas, as you and they wish. However, you will sleep in the rooms provided in your house and spend much of your free time there as well. The founder of your house is your mentor, though we also have other teachers and you will learn from all of us, we also like to have at least one session a week privately with our students. While you are here you will learn to control your powers, learning new skills and honing those abilities over the next few years, each teacher having a specialism. You will also learn to use a sword and other weapons if you can't already or practice with them if you already can, I know Toki, for example, has learnt some muggle weapon techniques from one of the first students to arrive here, his men and friends. Once you have been sorted, you will be able to join your house table for a feast and a chance to get to know the other students there. Some of the senior members of your house will show you round the castle tomorrow, so you know where everything is. I am sure you will have fun discovering the peculiarities of this Castle, as well as the creatures in the lake and grounds, just as we did not too long ago ourselves. Now, are you all ready to be the first to be sorted?"

The six nodded, even Toki was looking apprehensive now that the moment had arrived.

"Right, let's go then." She smiled brightly, trying to reassure them.

She stood, vanished the chair and led the six out of the room, Toki right behind her the others apprehensively following silently. They crossed the entrance hall, the noise of conversation still rumbling from within the Great hall, as they walked towards the open door. They entered the cavernous room and conversation stopped, as every eye fell on the short procession making its way to the front. Toki had been in the hall once before, with the other villagers, but the others were clearly overwhelmed by the sight, gasping when they noticed the ceiling.

"This place is impossible." He heard one of the girls pronounce in an awed voice.

"No, not impossible." He responded grinning. "Not with magic anyway, besides I know the students who created that." He pointed above them.

They reached the front and lined up facing the teachers table, immediately in front of the other three founders. Ravenclaw spoke loudly. "Fellow founders and colleagues, these six are the new apprentices that have arrived today, they are ready to be introduced to the school and to be sorted."

The teachers and other three founders bowed their heads to acknowledge her statement. Helga Hufflepuff stood, and walked round the table, collecting a three legged stool with a tatty pointed hat on it from the end of the staff table as she passed it and brought it to the front of the table placing it half way along it's length. She stood to one side of the stool. "Hat, are you ready and able to chose which house these six shall serve apprenticeship in?"

The hat jerked upright at her words and a tear near the brim opened like a mouth and spoke. "I may only have had the power to do so, or even think come to that, for a few days, but of course I am ready to do my job. After all, you were one of the four who enchanted me to do it, so you should know if I am ready better than I do." The hat testily rebuked her.

The students at the tables were silent in wide eyed surprise for a moment, then as a body burst out laughing.

Helga looked exasperated and quietly muttered. "A simple yes would have sufficed. Trust Godric and Salazar, I knew letting them enchant the personality for the thing was a mistake."

The hat puffed out importantly. "I heard that Helga, there's nothing at all wrong with the personality Godric and Salazar gave me, I am more than happy with it as is Hogwarts, besides it's too late to do anything about it so get used to it. If you ask a daft question, you can expect a daft answer my dear Helga." It retorted smiling.

The two founders responsible for the hat's irascible personality and dry humour grinned at the hat's antics, Hufflepuff looking like she was about to throttle them and the hat, when it spoke again. "Perhaps we should get on with this my dear, we haven't got all night after all. Besides I can't wait to get delving into my first young minds, see if they are any better than the ones the four of you possess, I can but, live in hope I suppose. It's terribly boring sitting there on that shelf you have made me live on doing nothing, but contemplating why on earth you couldn't have neatened my patches. I mean you could have at least smartened me up, given me an appearance fitting for my importance and what am I supposed to do between new students arriving? I don't know, you don't know, perhaps we shall never know. However, as we have no idea when any more new students will be found, maybe you or dear Rowena or perhaps both of you and I could have some time alone to find out, before they arrive." The hat waggled what looked like its eye brows and grinned lecherously.

While most of the teachers were looking stunned, Godric, Salazar and the students were, by now, roaring with laughter. Orin tried not to laugh, before giving in and joining them. Helga and Rowena were both doing fish impersonations, they were both horrified at the Hat's proposition, so much so that they tried and failed to respond to the hat coherently. Apart from Toki, who was used to the pranks of the founders and Creaftas, so had joined the laughter, the other new students were looking at each other, wondering what was going on.

The Hat sighed sadly. "Fine, looks like I will be contemplating that on my own, you really are no fun. In the mean time, as I said a few moments ago, do let's get on, the students are waiting to eat, you know."

Helga glared at the hat, and then turned to the students, who all fell silent, she looked at the six expectant youngsters. "When I call your name come forward and sit on the stool, I shall then place the hat on your head, see if any of you can get any sense out of it." She told them, causing more laughter from the students sat at the tables.

First under the hat was Toki, everyone in the hall was watching closely, to see what this eccentric product of the founders would do next. After a moment, the hat suddenly loudly simply called "Gryffindor."

Hufflepuff lifted the hat from Toki's head, as the Creaftas led the students in cheering as the youngster made his way to the table happily. The young lady who was next was sorted into Ravenclaw and she was followed on the stool by one of the remaining two boys, one after the other, both of them went to Slytherin. The next to wear the hat was sent to Hufflepuff, then finally, Ravenclaw gained the final new student. Task done, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw removed the stool, lifting the Hat roughly, placed both out of sight behind the staff table, then took their seats at the staff table.

Salazar stood, silence fell and all attention fell on him. "The first sorting is complete, I hope you will welcome the new students to their houses and to the school. Be sure to help them settle in, in the meantime, let the meal begin!" He announced.

As he sat, the food appeared on the tables and conversation began again,the main topic being the hat.

* * *

The ship's slaves strained against the oars, pulling the vessel up the centre, of the river, the slave master calling the rhythm, encouraging the lazy with a switch of willow where necessary, which it wasn't often these day's. It had been a log time since he had needed to add a new slave to the ship, a long time since any had died. They had become a reliable, strong team of oarsmen and one day he might even set them free, but that was long into the future. The captain, his brother, stood in the stern, leaning on the great oar used to steer the ship, watching over his vessel and those it carried, especially his passengers. The King's men and the family they had brought from Dunholm either stood or sat at the bow platform, the three Scots looking a little scared, but not as much as when they had been at sea. The rolling of the boat in the waves, even in sight of shore, had been disturbing to that family. The captain couldn't blame them, it was obvious to him they were simple folk from the highlands, probably had never seen the sea, never mined sailed on it. They were clearly too lazy to have been involved in any of the raids and totally unprepared for what they would find when they arrived at the city they were being taken to, that was a place like no other even the captain had been to. Their possessions were stowed in the bow, their small wagon, on which they had arrived at Dunholm had its wheels removed and was under the slaves benches, the mule tied to a post beneath the stern with other livestock destined for the city.

The sail that had powered them down the coast between leaving Dunholm, the port where they had spent the night and the entrance to this river, was down now, almost useless in the twisting confines of the river, where they would have been constantly trying to move it to catch the wind as they steered round each and every bend in the watercourse. The sail had been lowered as he had steered the boat out of the Humber and into the Ouse, taking advantage of the incoming tide to push them along as it flowed strongly up the channel. He had timed the manoeuvre perfectly, more by good fortune than foresight, arriving at the mouth of the Ouse just as the tide turned to flow into the river. It aided their progress and helped carry the ship into the Ouse as the oars began to bite into the water to ensure they kept up with the tide flooding the space between the banks. The skill now was timing, he had entered the river at the best possible moment to gain the maximum help from the tide, the only ship to do so this day, he knew he had a little more than six hours before it would change and begin to drain the river again, the oarsmen would then be fighting to make any ground against the strong current. He hoped that would not be necessary, he had travelled this river many times, he knew it was possible to reach the city with the flood tide, before it changed again. It was what had made it the ideal route for traders to reach the security of the city, but more likely they would have to row against it for the last few miles. For now he watched the river as they slid between its banks, he barked orders for the rowing to be adjusted as necessary, he did not want to overtake the flow of the tide, but ride as near the head of it as they could, to maintain best speed through the country. He was a regular trader in the city, revisiting it at least once a year as he travelled from port to port between Iceland and Frankia, trading goods from all the places he called at in all the other ports, Jorvik was by far the furthest inland, but also by far the richest, even over the Mercian capital on the Thames. Although he was a regular visitor, he had never arrived so late in the year at the enormous City. More usually he would call here in late summer, on his way south to trade in Europe for the winter, not Autumn, but he had been held up for several weeks in Ireland, while his ships mast had been repaired following a spring storm, before he had sailed up to Iceland, then back south to the East Coast of these islands on his annual circular tour. Arriving now, he risked being stuck here for the winter, unable to make money.

Time spent in Jorvik was usually more profitable than most places, especially as he was known to carry the best quality goods. As a result the city's crafts and tradesmen were usually keen to buy from him, as well sell their own goods to him. He would have no problem selling the skins and furs he had brought with him from Iceland and Greenland, or the wool and soap stone from Shetland, Orkney and the land of the Scots. He even had some boxes of hand made glass beads from Ireland this year which he had bought while waiting for the repairs to be completed. He knew they would sell well in the city, for the best profit, so had not tried to sell them elsewhere, but had saved them until he reached the enormous city. He would sell what he could then buy some of the city's produce and raw materials to sell further south. He would have to move quickly if he were to reach Frankia before the winter storms hit this coast and forced him to shelter in port, delaying him further. Much as trading here was amongst the most profitable in his year, this year he would have to move swiftly in the little time he had, he and his brother would be unable to enjoy the undoubted delights of the taverns and women in the city this year.

He would be glad to be rid of the Scottish family though, despite his pity for them and their nerves. They seemed to think they were important, now the King's own men were accompanying them. They had been very demanding on the relatively short voyage down the coast, he resented having to accommodate the demands of such people, who as they would be useless on the oars, he would have dumped over the side if he could have. They were so rude and obnoxious, so full of themselves, even his slaves hated the three, who tried to give orders to them. With luck he would never have to deal with them again, once he reached the city. They passed another ship moored near a village, waiting to head back to sea. They could see the stain above the horizon from the smoke of the city, a light brownish grey smudge in the distance behind it. With luck, they would make it there, he estimated they had only an hour or so travel left before they berthed on the quayside on the tributary of the Ouse he was headed for in the city, the tide should remain in their favour that long he thought.

Far less than an hour later the ship had lost the help of the tide as they drew close to the City, they could now clearly see the smoke rising from it against the sky. He had miss calculated the period they had been in the river which meant harder work for the oarsmen as the tide slackened in preparation for changing direction. They had done well to get this far the captain reluctantly had to concede, riding the tide up the serpentine river as far as Acastre, a Roman fort now owned by a Saxon family with a small community around it some four or five miles short of their destination, when they felt the tide slacken. His brother urged the slaves on, the pace of the rowing picked up and they picked up speed. The water had begun slowly falling by the time they reached Fuleford, less than a mile from the confluence they were headed for, though he knew the centre channel was usually deep enough for his ship's safe passage even at low water. Although he had never tried it, he was told that the early spring tides, when the tidal range was at it's most, many boats scraped the bottom and it was impossible to row against the tide then, it was so strong. The tide they were now battling against was strong enough to cause them some difficulty and the oarsmen were straining hard against the current to keep the vessel moving up river, rather than it being swept back the way they had come. If that happened then there was a great risk of the boat being wrecked, it would be out of control as it was washed back downstream, with little chance of regaining control. That said, he would be relying on that tide to return to the sea in a day or two's time.

She was a good solid ship, that he would hate to lose, built by his father to be stable, as a result she was not the fastest vessel, like a war ship. Its hull was shaped well enough to cut through the water with sufficient ease to beat all, but the low Norse war ships that carried men to raid or for battles. He had a dozen of his own armed men aboard for defence of himself and the ship as well as to keep the twenty slaves, who would slit his throat given the chance, under control. He could and had, taken her into battle once as part of a fleet, the wide beamed shallow keeled boat had bristled with warriors and shields adorned its sides on that day as they attacked. The carved and painted beast figurehead that could be fitted to the bow post lay in the hold, so as not to frighten the spirits of the lands where they traded at their approach, only fitted in place when they were to raid. He felt relieved as he saw the mouth of the river Fosse, which they were headed for, the falling tide already exposing the mud of the smaller river's banks. He knew, as they approached the point where he would steer into it, he would need to drive hard at the bank to beach in the soft mud and sand, but not so hard that the tide could not lift them out again. The Fosse flowed close by his favourite city tavern, he knew it would be easier to beach the boat there and he was near friendly traders who he could deal with. He steered into the mouth of that smaller river, then, shouting the order to drive the oars hard, he turned the prow into the shallows of the side to beach successfully near the pub. Children on the bank raced to catch the ropes thrown from bow and stern ready to secure them there, he would need to give a penny to each of the successful ones, then they would help watch over the vessel during it's stay. With a thud, a gangway landed on the side of the ship, two planks wide it formed a narrow bridge to the shore over which those who went ashore could cross, goods and livestock would be off loaded by a hoist slung on the mast. Having seen that the boat was securely moored, the captain gave the orders that the families goods should be off loaded quickly, he wanted rid of them as quickly as possible. He would go to the King's Palace with the family and the guard, deliver them safely, paying his respects to the King, along with the tax due so he could trade and hopefully receive payment for his services in bringing the family here. Only then could he start making money in the City and go give thanks for safely completing another summer at sea and pray for his continued good fortune in the cathedral, where he would also pay a tithe for the church, just as he did in every port.

* * *

The feast was over and the students had gone to their rooms. The staff had taken Orin to the founders' room, which was accessed via a moving spiral staircase hidden behind a Gargoyle which acted as guardian. It was the only room in the castle which was generally accessible that had been guarded, in order to control access, there were times they needed it to be secure, which was why the sentinel had been created. The stone gargoyle was standing on the seventh floor corridor below the tower containing the rooms, hiding the entrance to the moving staircase, which led to the founders own common room and suite from where they administered the school. Hogwarts herself had provided a password and clues to guide them to where the room was, she had provided it to give the founders a place to be away from the chaos of the school some weeks before. They sat in the circular room, drinking ale, talking to Orin about events in the village.

"The departure of the Durslieg's has certainly made the village a more harmonious place, these last few weeks have been quite dull really." Orin told them with a grin.

"Utred misses them already." Godric chuckled. "He had plans for them apparently, give everyone some fun. It has to be said though, I am saddened to lose such a ready excuse for visiting Hogsmeade every day as I had to."

Orin shrugged "You don't need an excuse to visit your village Godric. Do we know what has become of the family at all?"

"Yes, we have had news. It's a bit worrying really. I received word that they had reached Dunholm a few days ago. It seems they were initially taken prisoner, in the mistaken belief that they were raiders, it seems there have been a number into Northumbria by our neighbours." Godric told them.

"Are they all right?" Helga was alarmed at the news.

"Apparently so, at least for now. It seems they were later taken onto a ship with their beast and cart by four of the King of Jorvik's men." Godric sighed.

Salazar's eyes widened, he knew that probably meant the stupid Muggles were being taken to his old student, whatever purpose that would serve.

"I am more worried by the reports my source heard when they returned to the town after giving me their report." Godric informed them. "As I said, the Durslieg's were initially suspected of being participants in the raids of those lands, as unlikely as that seems, but were soon shown to be innocent of that. However, the King's men took a great interest in what they told them of this school, community and Hogsmeade when asked about where they had come from. It was on hearing this that the King's men took great interest in the family and persuaded the Lord of Dunholm to treat them as honoured guests"

Rowena was puzzled. "Why would a Muggle King be interested in us here, we are not even in his Kingdom?"

Orin scowled "The usurper has betrayed hundreds of us to the church, he was long rumoured to have the power whilst I was at Tang."

"You mean he is a wizard? He is responsible for all those deaths we keep hearing about?" Helga's voice betrayed her dismay. "I thought that was down to this church the Muggles cling to now?"

Orin snorted. "Since they supported his coup, murder of his brother and annihilation of the Norse nobles, that scum has done all he can to ingratiate himself with the church. He would betray his own mother to get what he wants. He aims to fulfil Alfred's dream , but not the way the church expects, he wants to rule all Englaland. To do that he needs the support of the Christians, so he does their bidding, without regret or remorse,his ambition is all that matters."

Salazar was shocked, stunned into disbelief! These reports of his student's ambition must be exaggerated, surely he would not simply betray his own kind without good reason, it couldn't just be a quest for power. The irony of a wizard in the long dead Christian King's sought after throne was not lost on him either. Even so, surely Styr could not be behind the slaughter of his fellow witches and wizards, simply to gain such a position, this claim must be an exaggeration, it had to be, or Salazar would be in even more of a dilemma than he was already over his oaths. "He surely targets only those who may betray those in power or have committed some crime?" He asked more in hope than expectation.

Orin shook his head sadly. "Don't count on it Salazar, he ordered the killing of Utred's family the same night he had killed his own brother to gain the throne. The traitor had supported his brother that afternoon, in the Witan, knowing he would betray him a few short hours later. His own men were alongside those of the church when they burnt Utred's Hall in the dead of the night and murdered or enslaved everyone in the settlement, except me. Since then, we know hundreds have been slaughtered within Jorvik's walls, brought there by his men. More dead in their own homes, hall burnings in the dead of night on his orders. Magical he may be, but if it keeps the throne he stole, or gain the greater throne, he would betray his own kind without a second thought or regret."

"Surely you exaggerate Orin." Salazar's face gave a way the fear he felt that the old men wasn't.

"I was made to watch as his men slaughtered my friends, even woman and children, others he took to sell as slaves. I saw him kick away men's swords as they drew their last breath, I saw him smirk as he murdered children, leaving the ground red with blood, leaving their bodies for the wolf and raven. Women slaughtered alongside their children, only the obviously pregnant certain to be saved, though taken as slaves. Men died, their swords ripped from their hands, denying them Valhalla, just as the Christian priests wanted, they have no tolerance for our older Gods as we have their nailed one. We may accept their God as another alongside the older ones, but they have no such tolerance, so they despise our beliefs and deny their victims their chance to enter the feasting hall. It was not just his men or even the church's men who did this, but Styr himself as well. This was not war, nor even a duel, it was a cowardly attack in the thick dark of night, even the Sceadugengan of the forest were too appalled to come near, before they set the fire." Orin was white and shaking at the memory. "I thank Merlin that man does not know Utred survived, perhaps it gives my young Lord time to gather his own army and one day take revenge."

Salazar paled as he saw Orin's reaction to the memory of that day, he knew the man was old, but also knew he did not scare easily, what the man had seen must have been far worse than he described to elicit such a response from him. If that were the case, Salazar had a far more serious problem than he had believed, his loyalty to his kind was now in conflict with his loyalty and oath to his student. He had to decide how much he could reveal, which loyalty was the most important. He thought back on his last encounter with his old apprentice, some of the puzzles from it at last began to make more sense and as each was answered he saw the route to the solution of others. The man had begun to act differently once he had seen Ulf, Eric and Utred working on removing the roof of the old long house. The change had been subtle, so subtle it would not have been noticeable to any who had not spent years with the man, at first. Salazar had, at the time dismissed the change, only becoming suspicious when the King had become overly interested in the castles defences. Even then, his worries had not led him to think his first, his best student so far, could betray his own people to such an extent. Certainly he had trained him to be cunning, to forge allies that would help advancement and to observe others to aid that. Such training encouraged a single mindedness he thought necessary to surviving in an increasingly Christian world. But, that did not mean cavalierly sacrificing other witches and wizards in the way it seemed Styr was doing. Salazar came to a decision, he would need to tell his three colleagues everything, Godric especially, he hoped they would have a solution to his dilemma. He would confess all at his earliest opportunity, in the meantime he would have to inform them of his most recent meeting with Styr, at the very least, they had to know to protect the school and their kind.

The conversation between the others had continued whilst Slytherin had been lost in his thoughts, he became conscious of that as he heard them speaking, he wondered how much he had missed.

"Godric, we must make efforts to protect more of our people." The ever compassionate Helga implored. "Seek them out and bring them here or to Godric's Hollow."

"Well, we now have one new house built in Hogsmeade, with more on the way, but in the Hollow, many have moved on to settle in both Wales and even Cornwall, so we have a few houses there. However we mustn't forget it's primarily a Muggle village, our people have to contribute something missing from the trades in both worlds in order to be welcome. So we are limited to what we can do to place people there, without causing problems for the community. The King of Alba is aware of us here and we all know he more than accepts magical folk, but the Scots are wary of any from south of the Wall, we cannot protect them outside my lands." Godric listed sadly.

"In other words there is a limit to what we can do for those who reach here from Northumbria now, without advertising ourselves as a safe haven." Ravenclaw observed. "Do we know what is happening further in the south?"

Hufflepuff spoke up "There is no deliberate searching in Wessex's lands at present, though if found, our people are poorly treated before being put to death. I still think we need to do more, we only usually know where our folk are when we find their children to bring here. We have no idea how many other families there are out there, we have never had to have communities of us before, we simply lived amongst the Muggles, meeting each other more by accident than design. At least this Styr has no more idea where our people are generally and he has never been here, so knows little about the school beyond what the Durslieg's might tell him."

"Yes he has." Salazar confessed, regret dripping in his voice. "I brought him, he was here."

"What? When?" The others heads snapped round to look at him.

Salazar sighed, he had started this now and there was no going back. "He was my first apprentice and his son is eleven. I brought Styr to the school the day we removed the long houses, to show him where his son would be trained as my apprentice. I brought him here, showed him round, thought I had convinced him to send his son, but I have heard no more since that day."

"Probably just as well, given that Utred is sworn to avenge his family's murder and has a number of sworn men amongst the students and at least two on staff. Once knowledge of the boy's family were known, life would have been difficult if not forfeit if he had come here." Godric observed.

"Not that the Usurper wouldn't deserve it." Orin spat savagely.

Salazar said nothing to defend his former pupil, revenge was well within Utred's rights and within the law as well. Any and all members of the offenders family were justified targets. In fact because of the manner of Styr's attack, at night, with soldiers, the death of his entire family and forfeiture of his lands were not considered sufficient retribution. Even so Salazar was bound by the oath he had taken when Styr became his pupil, to defend the man, his family and his honour should a challenge be made. "I am sworn to Styr, as he is to me, through his apprentice contract, however if it is shown he has unjustly killed any pure bloods, or unless I or other apprentices were directly threatened by him or his actions then the wording would allow me to remain neutral during a fight. Even so I have to take a measure of revenge afterwards, should my former pupil be defeated."

The others groaned, that traditional custom in the contracts had been dropped by them when the four had joined together to form the school, much to traditionalist Salazar's dismay at the time. He had been the only one of them to have taken such an oath before, the others had not taken apprentices before then so had never entered into such a contract. They all knew that Salazar had been newly qualified when he had accepted Styr under the old oath and had, perhaps naïvely, accepted it. They all knew it had been a way of ensuring the loyalty of a child's tutor to the family, in return the tutor had been taken into the protection of the family; neither could successfully attack the other. Truth be told though, Salazar would have no second thoughts about allowing Utred to fulfil the revenge if he needed to then making the necessary challenge to the young Lord to comply with his Oath and all in the room knew it, even if they all knew Utred would win any physical fight against him.

"Still Salazar, your student appears to be acting against his own heritage, you have seen the reports from Northumbria. We have lost a lot of good people to his ambition, Utred almost lost everything, it was only through lucky happen-stance he was not murdered with his friends and family; it is within his right to avenge them. This Styr has allied himself with those who would see us all dead, in order to further their own ends. If the Durslieg's have been taken to him, we must assume they will betray us, they have no love of our kind." Godric sadly told his friend, his expression unreadable by most in the room, but Salazar noticed the deep hurt the proud warrior felt at the Cordwainer's departure and pain at the family's capture.

Certainly the family had been a problem in the village, but despite their arrogance they had served his family well and loyally, Godric could not help but feel he had somehow let them down, failed them. This all went against the man's sense of honour and duty, even though he knew he could not have prevented their departure, capture or what they might reveal. Now, if they had gone to this Styr, then the village and school may be at risk, this man was clearly an enemy to his own kind and would not hesitate to attack if he felt victory would further his own goals.

"Godric it was not your fault." Salazar said kindly. "That family made their choice, having antagonised everyone in the are, including you Godric and you know it. We have our people in Northumbria, and Tigelwotta is back in Dunholm, and we have our people in Jorvik, even in the palace of that idiot Archbishop. We shall soon learn what has happened with the Durslieg's"

Hufflepuff leaned over and put hand over Gryffindor's reassuringly. "The King of Alba will help if we need it, maybe even the Celtic Queen will as well, you know how much she adores Utred for one thing, but no matter what Godric, you mustn't blame yourself over them."

Godric paused for a moment then looked up. "No, you are right, of course you are. No good comes from dwelling on what we cannot change or do. So as well as the Durslieg's we cannot worry too much about Styr invading us here, at least not yet, but we can prepare and look to the future of us all. So far as we know here, Hogsmeade and Godric's Hollow are the only communities of Magical kind there are, so we need to get organised. As I see things first, we need to improve security for our people, perhaps even organise ourselves as a wizard nation eventually, or at least lay the foundations for that to happen when needed. By Merlin, that sounds like Alfred's dream, but you know what I mean. We also need to prepare a contingency in case the village and castle are ever threatened, work on improving the wards. Orin will you organise villagers for defensive training."

"As you wish, Lord Godric." The old man nodded pleased to see his friend back to his usual self. "I had better start that in the morning, Ulf and Erik are putting me up in the lodge tonight, save me walking home."

"Very well, in which case my friend, you had better join them before it gets too late and they come looking for you." Godric nodded. "Shall we see you at Breakfast?

Orin smiled his agreement. "More than likely." He chuckled then left.

Godric turned to the others. "Now Salazar, please tell us about your ex-student. We need to know as much about him as your oath will allow my friend."

"Of course, then we shall need to discuss the limits of that Oath and it's relationship with the others we all took."

The four founders talked long into the night, considering what they learned of the king of Jorvik from his mentor. Most of what he knew of the man's Magical strengths was over ten years old, but it helped. They knew they needed more information, but Tigelwotta's family in Hvitsby would probably be a good source of recent activity, her mother being Godric's daughter, they knew she was reliable. She was well hidden there, right next to the Abbey and she had not wanted to leave when offered the chance, but knew the opportunity was still there. She had contact with traders in Jorvik and was careful not to reveal her nature outside those few magical folk she knew. To others, she was simply another number of the community. She could be an excellent source of information on events in Northumbria, complimenting what their other contacts could tell them. They wondered about getting someone into the Kings Palace, as they had in Wessex, but that would have to wait until they knew more. Their most important contact would be the one that was close to the Archbishop of Jorvik, he could give them an insight into the way the church was lending its support, and the political motives behind it.

With the growth of Christianity, and the hostility that came with it, the members of the widely dispersed and isolated magical community became more and more difficult to approach. News travelled increasingly slowly, and it was difficult to get word out unnoticed by others. They were now a much more fragmented community then they had even been before, in fact, the word community hardly applied outside Hogwarts, Hogsmeade and Godric's Hollow. Once, it had been that they would have known many magical folk all over the country, lived peacefully alongside the Muggles, quietly helping them, willingly and without fuss. Now they were becoming more and more isolated as years of official, priest led persecution turned into decades of it. The community was weak, but hopefully not fatally so.

Godric found the persecution of his kind at odds with the stories of the Christians messiah that their priests spouted. According to them, this son of their God had performed healing magics, even raised the dead and apparently even raised himself from death. The only difference Godric could discern was that the actions of this man were called Miracles rather than spells, though he suspected they may not be that different to those who had not seen either before. Even some of those the church men had called saints, were well known wizards and witches in reality. Their individual stories dating from before the monks and priests had claimed such skills were sinful, unless performed through their God and proven so with only them able to judge the validity of the claim. Such an apparent double standard puzzled all four founders, who could not understand how those who had once sought their help, could now preach how evil such a gift was now. Even more difficult to understand for them was how those churchmen now held the ears of powerful men, who now wished to please God and his priests, who believed those with the talent could threaten them, unless brought to heal. The belief itself was not inherently evil, but many of the men promoting it may well be, if their actions were any indication.

A plan of action was agreed, and even Hogwarts castle had let her feelings be known. It meant changes at the school, and for some of the people in it. Despite Slytherin's objections, the school itself had insisted it meant the end of life as students for all of the Creaftas.

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Authors notes:

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I look forward to hearing from you if you are kind enough to leave a review.

Until next time.

Tgfoy

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Historical Notes:

Hot Bedding. The House elves joy at receiving beds because they had shared them previously is understandable. Sharing beds in such a fashion is based on a practice during the industrial revolution of the UK. One person on duty working their shift whilst another slept, then swapping over when the shift changed, the bed still warm from it's previous occupant.

Frankia = France.

Englaland = England

Revenge was a valid manner of gaining justice of the time, though usually it would need to be sanctioned by a Lord. This was to ensure the level of vengeance fitted the crime and status of the victim initially wronged. For example a Lord's life was seen as more valuable than a slave's, although a ship's slave was seen as less valuable than one that directly served a Lord. Even the Church sanctioned the system, and as it grew, sat in judgement over any claims of the right of vengeance.

Although the Norse had arithmetic they do not appear to have had a written number system of their own, instead they learnt the symbols in use wherever they went, in order to trade effectively there. So in Britain they learnt the Roman numerals that the local population were used to, yet it is known the Arabic symbols were adopted by them in appropriate countries as well. A barter system was used in trading and money was unnecessary, if you needed something it could be exchanged for goods if agreed. Even the coins were only valuable because of the weight of the gold or Silver they were made from. It is known that Norse trading influence stretched from the Middle East over to (briefly) Canada though Ireland, Iceland and Greenland were the western most points for most trading ships.


	11. The King The Bishop and the Hogs Back

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise from the wonderful books by J. K. Rowling belong to her and her publishers, I make no claim on it. Anything else is mine.

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 **Chapter 11.**

 **The King, The Bishop and The Hogs Back.**

 **10th Century:**

Styr was growing increasingly uneasy about the presence of his Scottish guests, sent to him by his men from Dunholm, in his Palace where he had lodged them for their visit. He had spent a week trying to gain the family's confidence, attempting to wheedle the location of their origination out of them. From the reports his men had given him, as well as what little the family had said, he was certain it was the place he needed to find, positive it was a village close to the school he had been shown by Salazar, his old mentor. He realised early after their arrival that they had figured out he wanted the information and knew it was, therefore, a commodity with value. So had been tighter lipped than they had been in Dunholm, where they had believed that telling all would save their miserable lives. He could have extracted the information of course, but he preferred not to use Legilimancy to read the foul families minds, fearing that they knew just enough to reveal his true nature if he tried it and they recognised what he had done. He had no idea if they were familiar with the effects of the technique or not, if they were it would reveal what he was to them and he knew they would sell that information if they could. That wasn't the only reason Styr had for not using his powers to gain the information though, he had very quickly realise what foul people the Durslieg's were. He had, through necessity, probed the minds of some truly horrible people, he could stand sifting through the memories of them to get the information he required, no matter the deeds they had done, they still had some honour, some decency. This family though had none, they were truly disgusting in thought and deed, in a way he believed could easily be their nature, so bad was it. He really didn't relish the idea of having to sift through their memories and prejudices to find what he needed if he could avoid it. They were easily the most foul, unpleasant people he had ever come across, so the prospect that he might need to enter their minds made him shudder in dread at the filth he might encounter. Trying to get useful information out of them, past their wall of prejudice and self importance was bad enough, but his patience was growing increasingly thin as they tried to ingratiate themselves on him and any others they felt were important. He had made the mistake of offering them help to settle on their own piece of Northumbrian land, so long as they gave him and him alone the information he sought. An offer which had only increased the man's self important manner and transparent attempts at intimidating those in this court to try and raise his own profile. He had needed to be careful with the family, treat them as honoured guests, when in fact he found them to be an obnoxious example of humanity, repulsive, badly behaved and appallingly poor company who inspired him to have nailed to the city wall much more than even his brother had. Still he played on their feelings of betrayal by their Lord, desperate to get as much information from them as he could without resorting to the use of magic, but that was before Hrothweard had insisted on meeting with the foul family.

Styr had, in the end, had no choice, but to give way and allow the meeting, somehow the family heard it had been requested and insisted that they would agree to nothing until they had met the man. Styr realised this meant that one of Hrothweard's men was in this palace and had managed to get a message from the cleric to the family, who had sent a reply, all without his knowledge. Once more, it was clear, he would need to tighten the circle of those who he trusted in his own home, in the meantime he had his most trusted men scan all in his household to root out the spy. He had known since they arrived that he would, eventually, have had to grant access to the family, to Hrothweard, but had hoped he would have longer to get the information he required before he had needed to do so, it had turned out to be a forlorn hope. The Archbishop had arrived, unannounced, at the Palace and demanded to see them privately. The meeting seemed to have gone well for the church man, which certainly was not good for the king, but he still had no word as to what had actually been discussed. However, the family had been even more reticent since they had met with the head of the church in Northumbria. Even the fat thug of a boy, who had at first been friendly towards Thorfin, even instigating joint pranks on the servants between them, now avoided the King's son as much as possible. Styr thought back over the information he had managed to glean from the Durslieg's, mostly on the day they had arrived, when they had been overwhelmed by meeting the King, and desperate to curry his favour.

The family had, at least initially, been the one piece of obviously good news the ship from Dunholm had brought with it. The captain had paid the tax to trade in the city, passed on his news, including the tales of the raids on the Northern part of his Kingdom as well as the happenings in other, further flung lands. The man had told his tidings as quickly as possible, then returned to his vessel to oversea the offloading of the goods he had brought to trade. Later in the day, once the family's wagon and beast had been off loaded and reassembled, it was brought to the palace, along with the rest of their belongings, the crew who brought them left all of it stacked in the yard, the stench from the various bags and chests was strong, even over the usual reek of the city. Styr had heard the ship had stayed for two more days, trading and gathering supplies, then the Captain visited the cathedral where he probably gave tax to the church, as all Christians were expected to do and more than likely then paid for priests to pray for his safety at sea. Perhaps he did the same for himself as well before he departed, allowing the falling tide to pull his ship down the river back to the coast, neither oars nor sails required and stowed aboard together with goods he had acquired in the city, his treasure chest no doubt swollen by the profits he had made as well.

The news they brought of raids on the lands near Dunholm, originating from north of the old Roman built wall, which had clearly, worryingly, resumed again, although they gave the King an ideal excuse to ignore the summons to lead his army south. He was, of course, yet to inform Hrothweard of this news, he was still considering how best to use this information for maximum gain, to catch the churchman off guard sufficiently that he would not have time to make any demands other than those Styr required. Today though, his time to consider was over, for today the Archbishop was to visit the palace again, this time for the routine twice yearly King's council, which meant that Styr would control the meeting. It was the perfect opportunity to put the Archbishop in his place and stop any more thought of moving the Fyrd south. This was the one meeting they both attended where the King had complete control over proceedings, although he had usually deferred to what Hrothweard had wanted, the priest was only an advisor in this gathering and held only the power Styr allowed. There was no possibility of the Archbishop being able to overrule him, not without making himself look foolish in the process at any rate. That said, the churchman was a good politician, with an uncanny ability to react to the unexpected, turning it to his own advantage and would try to manipulate the King, expecting more leeway on protocol than was strictly allowed, believing it his right for gifting the throne to him. Not this time though, Styr too was a good politician and it was time to bring the clergy under control. He hoped that this time he would have complete control of the meeting for the first time, true he would need to react quickly, his plan was incomplete, he would inform Hrothweard of the raids, then tell him what would happen. From that point what happened would depend on the reaction of the chief of priests in the City. The news of the raids in the north would mean that the other Lords summoned to attend would support him, even if they were Christian, if only to only protect themselves, their lands and wealth. This was his chance, perhaps his only one, to call into question the church's loyalty to Northumbria, without having to worry about appearing to be being disloyal to their God, or to the church.

At least that was as far as he had worked the plan by the time Styr brought Thorfin and the Durslieg's into his main hall, where the council would meet, along with his household advisers at his side, Wizards to a man. The rest of what would happen would depend on how events unfolded, he believed he had contrived a response for any eventuality, but he could not be certain. He knew it was a risk, but he also recognised it had to be taken, it was the best chance to get the outcome he needed, he knew would not have as good an opportunity again. The morning of the Witan, he moved the pieces into place, ready for the gathering. He hid the Durslieg's in the shadows behind the dais where the thrones were placed, he did not want it known they were present. His last words to them before the start was to warn them that they should not be thereat all unless he summoned them publicly, before all the Lords present, so for their own good they should remain silent until he spoke to them directly. He warned them that if they made it known earlier, the lords sworn to his defence might act before he could stop them. He hoped that perhaps when the family saw him put the troublesome priest in his place, it would loosen their tongues, help them see where their loyalty should really lie. It was not long before the Lords of the Witan began to arrive, each knowing their place and taking their seat as appropriate.

The room was already full as the Archbishop arrived, on horse-back at the Palace gate. As usual, when attending Witan or the more regular Council, he was late and he was accompanied by a fully armed cohort of his soldiers, a show of power intended to catch the King off guard, by forcing him to delay the start of the meeting. Styr however had anticipated this tactic and not only had he ordered his own men to deny the Church guard access beyond the court yard and into the palace buildings, but he also had begun the Witan of Northumbria meeting at exactly the time proscribed, instead of waiting for the cleric. Hrothweard arrived at the door to the Hall, clearly furious his men, along with those of the other Lords, had been denied access. Usually his men would be allowed entry though, indicating his importance compared with the others, yet Styr had apparently given orders that this would not be so on this occasion. Hrothweard intended to demand that they be allowed in, but stopped in his tracks as his path was barred by two of the Kings own heavily armed men, tasked with the protection of the gathering. They blocked the threshold to the room, which was customary with any late arrival, who would be made to wait, once the session had started it seemed that is what he would be forced to do. He was not accustomed to such treatment, How dare Styr start the Witan without his presence in the meeting, not when the man was only in the exalted position he was because he had placed him there by the church. The Archbishop was a senior member of the Witan, second only to the King himself in this council, yet he was barred entry, he was left to merely observe the King directing the discussion within from outside, unable to ensure the debates went the way he and his church desired. He could see the King was listening intently to the Lords present as they gave their advice, but he was unable to hear what was said, or what the discussion was about. It could be anything from a property dispute, to why these Lords had failed to send men for the Fyrd as they should have done. The latter was a conversation he wished to hear the answer to, as was why they had arrived with only a handful of men each, no more than personal guard, but he could not until he was permitted into the room. He waited for the King to notice he was there and then create a pause to allow him entry, it was all he could do without breaching protocol, or risking being forcibly put out of the palace. His own tactic had back fired on him, putting him on the back foot, even after he was admitted. Hrothweard noticed his customary place at the side of the King was taken by the King's son, which increased his anger. He knew the King had every right to have his son at his side, but it rankled that he would be required to sit amongst the other Lords instead of where he could whisper suggestions to the King. Suggestions that, of course, the King was expected to follow in order to ensure the wishes of himself and the church were the ones agreed, he could only do that if he was sat where Prince Thorfin had been placed. He was so distracted by all the unexpected turns of events, that he did not notice the Durslieg's sat in the shadows behind the throne at all, just as the King had intended he would not.

Those in the hall had their backs to the entrance, as was customary. They were all unarmed so sitting with their backs to the door symbolically and in reality showing that they trusted their King to protect them in his own Hall. They could not see what was outside the door, so none noticed the angry clergyman impatiently pacing round waiting just outside the room. Each Lord sat in a specific place in relation to the others, depending on their status, both in society in general and within the Witan itself. Those closest to the King were among the most senior, others gained their position according to wealth, ownership of land, or because they were valued trusted advisers, whose counsel had proven to be the most reliable in the past. Many of them had fought alongside Styr when he took the throne, some receiving the land they now owned as their reward from him, a few had received some from the church as well, while others had already been landowners on that day, but had proven loyalty to the church, Styr or would just accept whoever was on the throne, not caring how they got there.

Styr had, however, noticed the angry Archbishop's arrival in the ante room the moment he had appeared and had decided to keep him waiting for a while longer than was strictly necessary. The business they were discussing was reaching it's conclusion, he would begin the next item before allowing Hrothweard entry, even though usually he would have been admitted between the discussions. The Witan had already discussed a number of issues that the Lords had brought, news of from their own lands and were now on matters within the City itself. Smiling to himself as he saw the head of the church begin to pace, he invited the Lords to offer their advice on the thorny issue of how much the City would charge this winter for arranging for the scraping of the hulls of visiting traders ships to free them of the barnacles they had gathered in their voyages since the last spring. The amount was eventually set, after some discussion, so the King finally acknowledged the presence of the Archbishop and invited him in, the guards parted at his word to allow Hrothweard in and the man swiftly moved through the door.

"Ah, Archbishop, I see you have arrived at last. I felt we should not wait in case you arrived, many of these Lords or their representatives have long journeys to make, so we began some little while ago." Styr smiled indicating that the man should sit facing the King. "Not to worry though, we have managed admirably thus far without your wise guidance."

Hrothweard noted the open barbs Styr had not bothered concealing in his words, painted in the veneer of formal politeness, had he been in his usual mood he would have recognised the signs of confidence in the King as well, but he wasn't and he didn't so his anger rose, especially as the others present barely hid their amusement at his discomfort. It was not calmed when he noted that the King had indicated he should sit with most of the Lords, closer to the throne, rather than having a chair next to him. Not only a position far junior to his customary place, but it was an invitation that, once more, protocol did not allow him to refuse without losing face further than he had already. As he took the chair he realised he had to calm down, so quickly got his anger under control, knowing it would not help to allow it to show. He could not give anyone the satisfaction of showing they had provoked him, besides, he held the controlling position, although the king did not yet know it. "My king I believe the news I bring from Wessex will be sufficient to allow my lateness pass."

The atmosphere in the room noticeably tensed amongst the Lords, they recognised the signs of the verbal contest for power between the two most powerful men in Northumbria. This may not bode well for the meeting, or the country as the two men vied for superiority, especially if neither gained it quickly. A long power struggle between the two, could lead to disaster for the country as both concentrated on beating the other rather than the needs of the nation. Even the loyal Christians amongst them could not help, but wonder if the old pagan gods, which they knew some of their number still secretly looked to, were not playing with them all for their own entertainment, as the old tales told they would.

The King smiled, he could play this to his advantage, whilst appearing to allow the man precedence. "In which case, Lord Archbishop, we shall hold off on all other matters until we have heard this startling news which has delayed your arrival at your King's Witan, Hrothweard." Styr knew he was calling the Archbishop's bluff and baiting him, not giving the churchman chance to settle too far into his comfort zone, strengthening his own position, whilst appearing to defer to the church.

The opening salvo's in this political battle between them had been fired, it was a fight they knew was inevitable a war of words, for now at least and every Lord in the room hoped that would be how it remained, fearing it would not. Hrothweard had wanted time to drop the news he had brought into the meeting at a more opportune moment, for him, in to the discussions, to catch them all off guard, gaining agreement before they could object, or even think of any. He began to wonder at the Kings attitude, perhaps he knew more than he had given him credit for? No that was impossible, there was no way Styr could know about this already, he had only received the message himself this morning, he wondered if it was something else of which he was unaware. He inwardly laughed, of course that couldn't be the case, how could his own network of informants fail him? No, the King had to be bluffing, trying to gain control of an unknown situation, there was no other possibility. Having come to this conclusion, Hrothweard drew his attention more confidently to the here and now of the meeting, he looked round the members of the Witan.

All eyes were on him, he had the expectant, eager attention of each one of the Lords, all of whom knew he had been allowed an unprecedented breech of protocol to announce this news now. Custom in the Witan dictated that any new business that had not been notified ahead of the start of the gathering would not be considered, but held over until the next, allowing all to consider their response to it, but the King had changed that for the Archbishop. All were awaiting his words with baited breath and heightened anticipation at the breach of protocol no other would have been granted. He pulled himself up importantly and proudly announced. "The King of Wessex sends his compliments and orders that St Cuthbert's remains be moved to Dunholm within the month, to secure him in his new shrine whilst it is peaceful. Further, in consultation with the family and my colleague in Cantwaraburh, the Durslieg's are to be taken south immediately. They have requested the asylum of the church, and it has been granted and they have been given land near the Seafern and Caerloyw. They have proved to be loyal to the church and will benefit from its protection there." The Archbishop gloated.

Styr's face had briefly betrayed his fury, he knew Hrothweard had deliberately worded the report to give impression that the King of Wessex was interfering in Northumbrian matters and had every right to do so. He was staking the claim of Wessex to rule the whole of Englaland and that Northumbria must bow down to the southerners. The King calmed himself as he considered the information, he knew it was Hrothweard who had changed the church's order to Wessex's in order to try to provoke him and the Lords. His own spies in the Church had told him the Archbishop had made a request that it be altered as a test, but they had not discovered what it would be changed too, now he knew that. He had also been informed that the King of Wessex had told the church he could not issue such an order, not before the King of a united country was named, at which time it would be up to whoever that was. He had told them he would merely add his support to a request made by the clergy themselves, but again Styr's informants had not known the nature of the order. Now he did, he could use Hrothweard's words to sow seeds which he could nurture later in the meeting. He smiled, an almost feral smile, at the Archbishop. "Please thank Wessex for his complements, but remind him he may not give orders in my Kingdom, any more than I can in his, at least not yet. However, the church may, of course, do as it likes with the corpse in that chamber you have created in the church at Onripum, of course we will assist where necessary I am sure, in addition to that dictated by duty to the church of course." He fell silent considering his next move carefully.

The Church had spent a large amount of gold to create that chamber beneath the church in Onripum, to hold the box, gold taken from the Lords in this room who wished to please the church. The crypt was lined with stone, with a narrow entrance for the clergy alone to enter, only they were permitted to view the body in it's temporary resting place. They had spent significantly more of Northumbria's treasure to construct a new shrine for the holy cadaver at Dunholm, where again the remains would be hidden within a tomb. No, if they wanted to take it north where it could be stolen more easily in raids then taken north of the wall, well that was their choice, but if he were to point out the waste by the church, it could alienate those Lords who were still faithful to it, he needed them on his side so could not alienate them. Besides, the Archbishop could hardly expect the Fyrd to be sent south now, not when the King would have to supply the majority of the guard for the priests who would accompany the saint's body on its journey, this would give him the excuse to disobey the Archbishops original command whilst making it appear to be for the church's benefit. The Durslieg's were a simple matter, so long as he could control their departure, he would have to suffer the cess pit that was their minds and take the information he needed from directly them after all, then Oblivate them of the experience so they could not reveal his nature. Still, he could not give in to the Archbishop too easily in the eyes of the council and he still had the news from the north to break, that should surprise the smug cleric and put him in his place, for now at least.

Taking a deep breath as if calming himself, he looked directly at the man."Very well Archbishop, I shall order the guard along the route for the holy saints trip and of course to accompany him." Styr agreed. "As for the Durslieg's, perhaps their journey can wait until sufficient of my men are available afterwards to take them south in safety."

The Archbishop smiled, he had, he believed, won a victory over the King. Perhaps that would help put him back in his place, subservient to him once more. "The church is grateful to you my King, though only a few guards for the Saint will be required, our own men and God, shall accompany the holy remains, though as many of your men as you can muster along the route would be appreciated. We shall take him on the route our Lord shall dictate, we do not know if he will wish the saint to be shown to the people as he passes or not, but itt will be revealed as we pray for his guidance in the next days. Once that is known, I shall inform you of it, in the meantime please hold yourself ready to be at his disposal, as we all do, praise God. One or two of your men is all that is required to accompany the Durslieg's, their odour and manner, should put off most attacks anyway. They will leave within the week for the small estate they shall own, there will be little risk, after all, it is our allies' lands they will be going through. The journey north for the blessed Cuthbert is hardly fraught with danger either, Dunholm is at peace, by all reports from my clergy there."

The King smiled, he knew the Archbishop believed he had won, he would continue with the charade, for now. He also knew that the route the saint would take would be decided by how many places the priests thought they could get money from for taking the corpse there, all gold for their pockets in the name of their God. Even so his words and tone were measured, though not noticeably to others, luring the Archbishop in, as he responded carefully. "Very well, I will supply two men to escort the family, and send word to all men to guard the route of Saint Cuthbert, once it is known."

"Thank you, my King." The Archbishop dutifully replied, a sly smirk betraying his true feelings of victory.

His eyes widened in surprise as the King turned to look into the shadows behind him.

"I believe the rest of our discussions will be of little interest to you as you appear to have made your choice to leave us. I am sorry you will be going away, it has been interesting to meet you." Styr said in a clear voice, as Hrothweard noticed someone was there, in the shadows, for the first time. "I shall see you following this meeting, to make the arrangements for your journey, you may return to your rooms for now, please wait there for the time being, we shall finish here as soon as we are able." The King addressed the figures that appeared from the gloom, revealing who they were to the Archbishop. They bowed to Styr before they silently left the room, glaring at the cleric, who was stunned that they had been there, as they went.

Styr was almost laughing out loud as the Priest realised the family had heard his words about them, the King's plan to deliberately hide them so Hrothweard would not know they were there had paid off far more than he could have hoped for. The Archbishop had gone to quite some trouble to garner the families loyalty and had badly damaged that with a few careless words.

Once again the Archbishop was having to control his anger, he knew he had damaged the trust he had built with that foul family, simply to glean from them the knowledge of what the information Styr wanted from them was. He had gone to some lengths to gain them lands in Wessex to buy their loyalty with and now he knew he had jeopardised that trust. Still he should be able to salvage something of that relationship, to do what he needed to with them, so long as they wanted to leave the Palace, before going to Wessex. Styr's voice drew the Archbishop from his thoughts.

"Well, with that settled, we should return to the business we had planned to hear. As I notified my Lords, we must hear the report from my messengers, who have recently returned from the north, with the Durslieg's on the same ship that brought them." The King nodded towards one of the men who had escorted the family from Dunholm.

The report was long and detailed, as Styr had instructed it to be, describing several of the raids that had occurred, with no Scots being captured. Hrothweard's face was draining of colour the longer the report went on, now he learned of the regular raids so close to where the new, expensive, shrine had been built, by the church as a whole at the site he had recommended. He knew that his counterpart in Wessex would be furious that the shrine, one that he had caused to be built to take the saints remains, was in a dangerous place despite his reassurances, which meant that the entire church controlled from Wessex would be displeased with him. This was to be the permanent home for the corpse, completing the journey it had made round Northumbria, seeking a suitable place, until God's guidance had told his priests where to build, or rather his priests had claimed such on his instructions. Dunholm, which was close to the saints original burial place which was far to vulnerable to both Scottish and Danish attack, had seemed so secure. Now it sounded far from safe, contrary to the word he received regularly from his priests there, it seemed inappropriate for a saints final resting place. If his priests reports were false, as now seemed likely, what else could they be concealing? The timing for moving the saint's remains had been decided based on his recommendations, which he had only made because of those false reports. To change that now was unthinkable, he would lose all credibility with his masters in the south. He had personally assured them of the peaceful relations Northumbria had with the Scots, it was impossible to change anything now. His only hope was that this was simply a play by the King to gain power over him, by embarrassing him in front of his superior in Cantwaraburh. That would explain the reports he had received from the town, perhaps his priests had not misled him and this report was a lie engineered by the King. Styr was a slippery ally, ambitious enough to do anything to suit his purpose, he had after all betrayed his own brother to gain the throne. Hrothweard had supported that act, but if the King could betray his brother so easily as he had, needing little persuasion, would he remain loyal to him, was he capable of it or would he betray him without a thought? After all the man had to have known of this earlier and had not said a word about this before, rather the contrary in fact. Had Styr deliberately misled the him? It was the only answer that made sense, he could not allow the King to get away with it.

With all protocol and politeness forgotten, his anger built and exploded and he interrupted the report. "Styr, I put you on this throne, now you betray me." Spittle was spraying and frothing from his mouth as his temper rose to fire and brimstone level. "You will explain why, on reports read at your council, I assured the King of Wessex of the safety that the blessed Saint would enjoy in Dunholm? Why, on the strength of your assurances, the church both here and in Wessex has committed vast amounts of gold to build the shrine and church, only to find as the work is complete, it has been built within reach of heathen savages ravaging the area? Why have you not brought the Scots under control? Your disloyalty to the good of the church has placed both the Saint, and my position, in grave danger. Who supported you against your brother with the sole purpose to ensure our orders were fulfilled, as you agreed at the time? We kept our side of the bargain, you are King, and it is time for you to fulfil your word to us."

All present drew a sharp breath as the most senior church man in Northumbria brought the King's honour into question. Styr had to react strongly, or all would assume his guilt of the accusations. They expected the King to react as violently as the Archbishop, they knew if he did, they would need to choose sides as civil war erupted between the King and Church.

Styr, however, remained calm, his eyes cold as steel as he responded firmly, his tone oozing the strength of a man who knew he had the power to crush or make the man he addressed. Brooking no argument from his would-be puppet master, his words cut through the tension as swiftly as a sword. "Archbishop Hrothweard, we are not in your vicars' refectory in Bedern now, nor your cloister, or even a chamber within your house. You are at my council, which you arrived at late and now accuse of misleading you. I will, for now, ignore disregard for proper behaviour in my presence, however, I cannot allow your accusations to my honour as King, nor of this council, stand unchallenged. I have given you no assurances or any information regarding the safety of the north that was not reported by your priests to us by yourself or that hasn't been given in the Witan. If your priests cannot give accurate information then blame them, not this Witan. If you have furnished false information to Wessex then that is your responsibility, not ours. I would also point out that you complain that we have no peace in the North, while you request our Fyrd wastes it's time in Wessex, building defences against no one. Defences that Wessex should be constructing for itself, as each and I suspect every Lord here could tell you, it is their responsibility to defend themselves not ours." Styr told him, paused as if thinking, then added. "I would remind you as well, that the bulk of the gold for your shrine at Dunholm was Northumbrian, from those in this room and others, not from your church, or even from Wessex. Tell me how you wish us to fulfil all these demands you place on us? Which is to be our priority and which ignored? Should we deal with the threat to our northern border, or send men South to do nothing on the orders of Wessex? Perhaps if you stopped trying to serve more than one master, you would see more clearly the requirements of Northumbria, your own country. Archbishop, is your loyalty here or with Wessex?" The Kings words were dripping with insults, both obvious and implied, but every Lord present knew them to be true and would not argue.

The Archbishop sat, shocked, unused to being spoken to in such terms, but his anger was quietened at the realisation of the truth of them. "I must obey Cantwaraburh, he is the senior." He weakly replied, not able to defend against the accusations made.

"Why?" Styr replied, the strength in his voice not diminishing as he swiftly continued, not allowing Hrothweard to answer. "Because Wessex dictated you should? Who is he to rule your Northumbrian church, and attempt to take our country by stealth through you? He knows nothing of life here, so why let him rule your actions here? How can he know the needs of the people you serve? Cuthbert will go to Dunholm, with or without his help, but to ensure the shrine is safe, we must quiet the Scots. For that we need as much information from the Durslieg's as we can get, or is Wessex to know it before we can act. Why? Is he able to do the job for us? Of course not and if we asked he would rightly say it was our problem not his. So I ask again, where does your loyalty lie, with the south or with your home and us, the people you are supposed to serve?"

Whilst the Archbishop stared silently open mouthed at Styr, the Kings implication that Wessex was trying to invade Northumbria by stealth through him had rocked him to the core. The statement shocked him into realising he was rapidly losing the loyalty of the Lords present, Wessex had left him impotent to respond effectively. If he supported his southern counterpart then he would loose all here, if he supported Styr he would lose any support from the south. He could not allow either scenario to become reality, especially with what he knew the church in that country wanted, that Styr's accusation was correct, though he believed achieving it to be many years away.

The silence in the room remained unbroken so the wizard took his opportunity, he wordlessly cast Legilimens on the Archbishop for the first time, what he found was no surprise. The man was frantically trying to find a way to regain control, but had no method to do so. Styr pushed past those thoughts to dig deeper, searching for the information he needed. He swiftly swept through the memories he did not require, until he found the ones of the Archbishops meeting with the Durslieg's. He quickly extracted the information he wanted, then withdrew his probing, satisfied he now knew all that Hrothweard did about the appalling family and significantly, some detail of their journey. He now knew the name of the village they were from and that it was indeed close to the formidable fortress of the school, details considered unimportant by the Archbishop, as the family had been unable to tell him the nature of those who attended it. Hrothweard had even dismissed the castle as a surviving building of the Romans, despite the family insisting it had only recently been built, after all how could the Scots build such a thing. Most might be Christian, but they were still barbaric, barely capable of building a hut, never mind a complex stone structure. The one thing missing that he had hoped would be there was the location of the village or castle, still he was a little further forward. Styr was relieved to find that Hrothweard was still unaware of why Styr's men had brought the family to the City, that was something at least. The King gained this knowledge in a few short seconds before he silently Obliviated any memory of his intrusion, none of the observers in the room knew anything odd had happened at all, they just saw the two men staring at each other, waiting for the other to speak.

The lack of response from the Archbishop to what the King had said indicated to the other Lords that the King had won this round, he had gained their support as well. They all knew how much they had given to Wessex in terms of men and Gold to the Church for the shrine, both had not just cost the obvious, but also the means to make a living through lack of resources to pay men to work. Once the two men had turned back to them, Styr had called on them to support a campaign against the Scots instead of sending them south. As a result of the lack of any denials or justifications of the allegations from the Archbishop, the Lords quickly agreed to send men with the King to help repel the Scots once and for all. Styr had his army, he knew the name of his target, he now simply had to check one of the Durslieg's minds to ensure had as much information as they had before they left. He knew, from Hrothweard's memories, that they would be gone within a day.

Hrothweard returned to his palace behind the Minster in a foul mood after the conclusion of the meeting, he could not remember anything that had been discussed after his altercation with Styr, or even if anything had been. Styr had somehow out-manoeuvred him on an issue he had been so sure of, the King had succeeded in leading him into agreeing to far too much, even calling his loyalty into question. Cantwaraburh would not be pleased that his instructions had not been enforced in the Northumbrian Witan. Styr had been too well prepared, starting the council without him, not breaking custom for his guard or allowing him in as soon as he arrived. His absence from that discussion had prevented him levying a church tax on the amounts agreed, he had to be present to have it added, now they would miss out on a valuable source of winter income, a large loss for his church, he would need to find ways of recouping that. Then the King had apparently known more about the situation at Dunholm than his own informants had told him, thereby enabling Styr to legitimately show his generosity to the church in providing the guard and Fyrd to protect the saint, a gesture that would not go unnoticed by Wessex or Cantwaraburh. This overshadowed the non appearance of the Fyrd to go south, a lever he no longer had with the King, who would already be preparing to summon it to guard the route to Dunholm, a duty that would take less than a day. They would then willingly, even enthusiastically assemble near Dunholm, to raid North of the wall, to protect their country. In addition to all that, the accusations the King had made were perfectly true and had lost him the loyalty of the Lords whose first duty was to the people under them, that relied on their lands for their livelihood. The Archbishop knew he had lost this round, he could not lose again. He contemplated how he could regain control on the King and in doing so prove his effectiveness to Wessex. After all he did not want to be the first Archbishop of Jorvik not to become Archbishop of Cantwaraburh and the vastly larger wealth and power that came with it, when the time came for it. In the mean time he must regain control, increase the wealth of the Church here in Jorvik, which meant he could increase his own treasury. He would need to influence the Lords of Northumbria, through his priests, they would be willing, it would increase the gold in their own pockets as well as what they could send to Jorvik and he in turn could send south to Cantwaraburh. The Church needed the wealth, to maintain and increase their influence, to ensure that once Englaland was a reality, it was them that shaped it. In the meantime, he must regain his own ability to control the goings on in Northumbria, ensuring the church must be in charge, even if those outside it believed it wasn't.

Styr, meanwhile, was happy with how things had gone and had immediately sent messengers to Wessex, with the news that despite the threat from the North he, personally, was ensuring the safe passage of the precious remains of the saint. It was important he got the message to them before Hrothweard did, not only did it demonstrate his loyalty to the church and prevent the Archbishop claiming the credit, but it also diminished the man's position with his senior colleague. Not only because he had not known about the troubles near this shrine, the site of which Hrothweard had been responsible for choosing in the first place, but also because his lack of knowledge had led the church to act precipitously in ordering the saint be moved. His message would ensure that the Archbishop was seen as responsible for that, rather than he. In the process he had gained the complete loyalty of the Northumbrian Lords and undermined the churches influence with them without exposing his own position. The Fyrd would, as a result, probably number at least ten thousand men. Hrothweard's actions had even managed to undermine the loyalty to the church of even the staunchest Christian amongst the Lords with his display. Styr knew it wouldn't last, it was but a temporary victory before the church and Archbishop would regain their influence, he needed more to delay that long enough to gain what he wanted, but he had made progress towards achieving that as well.

Styr had gained some information about the stronghold full of witches and wizards along with its village from a probe of all three of the Durslieg's minds. He still lacked a precise location of where they had come from, they did not seem to know themselves. He suspected a ward of some kind had removed the knowledge from their minds, but he had a name, Hogsmeade, not only that, but he knew the name of the family that owned it, Gryffindor. Important information which he could use to guide him to his mentors location, lead an army to it eventually. An army with which he could act, capture the place and deliver scores of Witches and Wizards to the church, guaranteeing that it would be he that became King of all Englaland.

Such a raid with so many men was a risk, but he knew once at the castle he would have one less powerful Wizard to worry about than he might, he knew his old Mentor was bound by the oath made when he had accepted Styr as his Apprentice, as Styr was too. This could count to Styr's advantage, when it came to the attack; he knew Salazar would act to protect the school, but would also be bound to act against anyone who attacked him personally. He could dismiss his mentor from his considerations, he would be no threat to him, he was glad he would not have to face his old teacher, he had never been able to beat him one on one in a duel or a fight. The fact that Salazar would attack the others in the army did not matter, he would be safe from him and any his mentor saw attacking him directly. No; the biggest threat to him would be if Utred Huntrodds lived long enough to realise whose army it was that was attacking the school. Styr would have to rely on Salazar to defend him, if the boy reached him, he could not let that distract him though. He had to capture the Castle, it was the only thing that would give him the power he wanted, he had to rule all Englaland, he was the only one fit to do so.

* * *

 **Late 20th Century.**

The students of Gryffindor house rose early and breakfasted, whilst most of the students of the other houses were just stirring from their night's slumber. Each member of that house returned to their dormitories to change into freshly laundered robes, which the Elves had carefully laid out for them whilst they had eaten their meal. Hardly a word had been spoken between any of them, few were needed this morning, they were focused so heavily on what they would be doing later, as they readied themselves to leave the castle for the day and walk to Hogsmeade. Today though was not a Hogsmeade weekend, they would not be visiting the shops or even the Shrieking Shack. Although the first and second years would be with them, the students from the other houses would not be joining them, not one of them was messing about with their friends, nor would be today. Still each one, including the first and second years, assembled in the common room before, led by the prefects, they began the walk to the village, prepared for the sombre duty they had willingly volunteered to perform.

The portrait watched them, unnoticed as he normally was and accepted he was almost forgotten, it had it's advantages. He often led the other portraits into playing pranks on anyone who noticed, or delighted in giving Peeves ideas, though the poltergeist was capable of coming up with his own. As he had in life, the subject in the portrait, delighted in entertaining, though in the last few decades he had enjoyed watching first the Marauders then the Weasley twins take up the mantle he and his friends had set in the school in their time here. There had never been long since then when the school hadn't hosted one or two true pranksters, but in those gaps he had done his best to fill them, even with the restrictions of being the image of a man long dead. Today though, as the members of the house he had once been a part of left to support two of their fellows, it was not the time to be noticed, so he simply watched them proudly.

Few had ever noticed his picture, he thought that over the centuries fewer than twenty students had actually stopped to look at him, fewer than half of those had taken the trouble to speak, less than that had bothered to ask who he was, but he didn't mind that in the slightest. He simply watched and waited patiently, as he had done for almost a Millennium, ever since his portrait had been put here after his death. He had been concerned, even worried, at the goings on in the castle at times, but only once had he summoned his spirit here when things had been so bad they had needed to act, but that had been long ago and forgotten by most. That said he had almost acted again in the last few years, as he watched his descendant going through school, but that had been through his own frustration for his spirit, trapped as it was in this realm, though not in this place. There was only one place his ghost could not go, a place it wanted to almost as much as it wanted to pass over, but was unable to when he tried, they could not understand why. Just as the portrait was rarely noticed, the ghost was rarely seen by mortals, especially his descendants, who he had spent time watching when away from the School, but they often spoke to each other in the dead of night. Discussing the goings on in the Castle and else where, passing the time as they both waited. The centuries they had both spent observing the students, descendants of those they knew and new families, the rise and fall of the darkness several times over, with many leaders. They remembered when with the Normans taking the nation there had been an influx of French Wizarding families who had hidden amongst the invaders and been awarded land for their service in the battle in the south, the third that year, as well as during the aftermath. One such family had played the game of politics well in the last couple of centuries after a long time as minor land owners, but had fallen from grace and into ruin with the defeat of the last Dark Lord. Although there had been occasional excitement over the centuries, they had simply been waiting for a single event, triggered with the first of his descendants to be eligible to attend the castle. Those years of patience were now coming to an end, events would soon come to a conclusion, they hoped the one long planned, but nothing yet was certain.

The portrait watched events this morning with a real sense of satisfaction, the current members of what had been his house were going to support their class mates without hesitation. There was no doubt this was a distraction from the usual activity they saw, but he knew the descendant would be at the event as well and it had been some time since he had seen her in this corridor, he hoped he might overhear some news of her though, when they returned at least. Today they would know, positively for the first time, whether or not it was this Descendant that was beyond doubt the one, the one the Huntrodds of Whitby had said had finally arrived. Today could be the final assurance the end truly was close at hand, that she had the ability to save each of her ancestors and his descendants. The portrait would need to wait for news, his ghost would be the one watching in the village, to see if the one had, as they believed, at long last arrived and would be drawn to fulfil the task. At least then they would know if the time was, at last, upon them, that they had little time left to wait.

* * *

It was, thankfully, quite a pleasant day, the autumn sun was still strong enough to add some warmth in the fresh chilled air, quickly burning through the early morning mist that had hung low over the streets as dawn had broken. The golden and red leaves on the trees in the forest and in the village glowed like flames in the brightness of the day. The village was almost as it was on most other days during the year, ready for the activity that had become normal for this industrious little community. Smoke was rising gently from the chimneys of the houses, in which the occupants were busy about their routines, shops were open as usual and people, both resident and visitor, were beginning to mill around the square. Only very regular visitors and locals would notice that those folk wandering the streets were visitors, not villagers, not one actual resident was out and about in the street today. The shops that were open were staffed by those who lived above or behind them, each carried a notice that they would be closing much earlier than usual, some were closed altogether anyway, black banner's showing in every shop window instead of the usual displays. The visitors were surprised that even Weasley's was closed, it's usually very exuberant window display absent, black banners respectfully draped from the top of each of the windows. There was no activity in the shop or the depot behind it, apart from Owls flying into the building, delivering orders that would not be dealt with until the next day. There was something far more important for the villagers to do today than worry about tourists, or sending out orders. This was a day for the village, for those who lived here and two youngsters who now had, had the last of their family taken from them. The village would mark the passing of two of their own, celebrate their lives and support those left behind.

The twins had spent most of the week, since Maggie had died, at Hogwarts, the normality of attending lessons and the school routine had been reassuring for them. That routine had been broken after lessons had ended the day before, when they had been glad to spend the night before the funeral at the Burrow with Molly, Arthur, George, Harry and Ginny. They had left the school with Ginny, Harry joining them once his duties were done for the day, allowing them all to prepare for the events of what would be a difficult day together. It had been a comparatively sombre evening, but the twins had appreciated being in a familiar, homely, place with people they knew cared as much for them as had Maggie and Eli. They had spent the evening telling them all about their time living in Whitby, remembering the times they had, had with the couple, recalling happy times at the seaside town and the other places they had been. They told stories of those few weeks until they were simply to tired to continue, then they were led to their beds, in the rooms they had taken in the summer when they had come to the Burrow, when their Aunt and Uncle had gone into hospital, memories still playing in their minds.

The twins had risen early the next morning, breakfasted half heartedly, before they had returned to their rooms to get ready to travel to the cottage in Hogsmeade which Eli and Maggie had owned. It was from this house where the couples final journey would begin, from where they would be carried through the village to the graveyard. Neville, Dudley, Petunia, Ron and Hermione would be joining them there, ready for the Coffins to be port keyed in by St Mungo's undertaker.

Bill, Fleur and Victoire arrived soon after breakfast, but it wasn't until everyone was ready that they all Apparated directly to the back garden of the cottage, Molly and Arthur taking the twins side along and entered to await the arrival of the others. They didn't have long to wait, Neville and Petunia had walked from the school, Met Ron and Hermione at their cottage,then collected Dudley at the door to his flat, so they arrived together, about an hour before things were due to begin. The two Caskets arrived thirty minutes before they were due to leave, giving the twins a chance to have time alone with them, which they spent chatting away to their Aunt and Uncle about what they had been up to. Ten minutes later the rest of those from Hogwarts arrived, only Dennis and Martin came in, though Martin didn't stay long, simply getting final instructions before he went out again to see to the others who had come from the castle. Then, all too soon, as these things invariably are, it was time to prepare for the walk through the village, to the graveyard for the burial.

Hermione, Petunia, Molly and Ginny stood alongside Delilah and Tarquin, dressed in black robes, outside the front door of the cottage that Eli and Maggie had owned in Hogsmeade. They had just stepped out of the house in readiness for the start of proceedings. A guard of honour, comprising the members of Gryffindor house, stood in two lines each side of the garden path, awaiting their cue to walk through the gate and line a clear passage from gate to the centre of the road, each one determined to show their support for their two house mates. The street itself was otherwise quiet, the village was effectively to close down completely in a few moments, a tribute that had amazed and humbled the twins. The few visitors wandering round, seemed to sense that a solemn occasion was about to occur, they wandered the village slightly bemused , but respectfully quiet as they observed the developing scene not far from the main square, trying not to intrude. Every shop and business was closing as the appointed time drew close, only the school would be continuing to run as usual during the events in the village, albeit minus the students of Gryffindor and a few of the staff.

Harry had felt great pride in his students a few days earlier when they had approached him with a request and as a result, he had escorted a representative deputation of them, one from each year group, to Minerva's office. When he had said he thought it a good one, but it would need her approval, the students had asked that they make their request to the head mistress themselves. He had been more than happy to take them, sure she would allow it, impressed not only with the idea, but also the thought and planning they had put into making it feasible. The students had filed solemnly into the office and lined up in front of the headmistresses desk. They presented the request that had been suggested by every member of the house, they asked permission to support their two house mates, by attending the funeral. They had suggested they could make up the work from the lessons they would miss at the weekend if required, the students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had offered to share notes of the classes. Even the younger Slytherin's had offered to help, much to the disapproval of those in the house who believed the twins had betrayed them, but the approval of their head of house. Minerva, as Harry had expected, was impressed with the students care for their fellows, planning and the way they had ensured they would be able to keep up with their work, so had readily agreed. She shared the pride which Harry felt, in the twins new house mates, the fact that after only a few weeks, they had unanimously wanted to do this for of their house mates was gratifying. The fact that it was for two students with the history of the twins, their actions of only a few months ago, gave her hope for a better society in the future. Pleased that they wished to support them, as they bid farewell to the last of their free family. She had already adjusted the staff timetable, so the staff who had known the popular couple and wished it, could also attend so with the planning the students had clearly done answering any doubts or concerns she may have had, she couldn't really refuse them, not that she wanted to in any case.

The students had walked down from the school silently, in line, through a village where every shop in the village was closed or closing for the day after only a couple of hours trade. An uncharacteristic hush was falling over the village, soon only the sound of footsteps and bird song continued to disturb the growing silence.

Five minutes before the time the coffins were due to emerge from the cottage, the doors of every house in the street opened and the occupants of each emerged, to stand respectfully alongside the road. If their house was to be passed by the procession, then the family simply waited at the side of the street outside their own property, but if they lived further up the street, in the opposite direction, they walked down until they were outside the cottage and assembled across the road, blocking it. The residents from the rest of the village arrived, joining the others, forming a complete human wall lining each side of the street. Many of the village elders remembered when Maggie and Eli had lived here, others knew them from visits they had made to their home over the years. It was evident that the couple were held in high regard, by all in the village, the turn out showed that and was the way in Hogsmeade for the funeral of one of their number.

Aberforth, carrying the village's official mace, joined the group of five who were watching the actions of the villagers with expressions of surprise. Aberforth set the mace down, using it to lean on as he bent to speak with the twins.

"Don't worry you two." He reassured them. "Eli and Maggie are both well remembered and loved here in Hogsmeade, everyone in the village knew them and wanted to pay their respects and their support for the two of you now. We are honouring them as important people to us all, hence I have brought the the mace as well, it is carried at the head of the funerals of all those important to us and the village, are you happy for us to do so? If not, don't worry no one will take offence."

The twins looked at each other, after what appeared to be a brief, silent discussion between them, they turned back and nodded. "That would be very nice Mr. Dumbledore, we had not appreciated how much they were regarded, thank you." Delilah said.

"I think Eli and Maggie would be amazed to, but appreciate it, so do we." Tarquin added.

Aberforth smiled kindly at them. "Thank you, you both have all our sympathies, just know that because they were important to us, so now are you, you will always be welcome here. Now, we must form the procession ready to receive them, so if you will stand along the centre of the road, we shall ensure everything is done properly for your Aunt and Uncle."

The twins silently nodded, then allowed themselves to be gently guided by the four women with them as they took position side by side along the centre of the road. The stage was set for the start of the sad duty, which they had to perform.

Both sides of the route were lined with villagers and any tourists who were still there, all silently waiting expectantly, watching carefully. A low rumble of subdued conversation ran through the crowd as the late September sun warmed them, all eyes looked expectantly towards the door of the cottage.

The bell on the clock on the village post office in the square began to chime the hour, all chatter among the crowd ceased and a silence fell over all those gathered. It seemed to the small group in the middle of the road, that everyone present held their breath for a moment. As the bell fell silent, the Gryffindor students, all in their newest school robes, who were assembled on the garden path turned and walked smartly, silently out of the gate two abreast, wands drawn held upright in front of their chests. Once through the gate, the two lines parted and formed two lines with a broad path between them, ending just in front of the twins party waiting in the road. The door of the cottage was opened from the inside and two figures emerged from the house. They took positions on either side of the door and the students smartly raised their wands, arms straight, pointing slightly away from them, forming a roofless arch in salute. Aberforth stood, holding the mace straight armed, upside down, in it's non threatening position. Neville and Dudley stood either side of the garden path, as first Harry and then Ron emerged, a coffin held low, gently carried between them. They stopped once Ron had cleared the step and the rose covered porch, Neville and Dudley then took position at the side of the casket, the cousins now standing next to each other at the head, while the other two were at the foot. Together they hoisted the casket to their shoulders then slowly walked out along the garden path, through the gate progressing between the students, stopping just beyond the two lines and the twins group waiting at the end. As they stopped, George and Bill emerged from the house and stood where Neville and Dudley had waited moments before. Arthur led Charlie, bearing the second oak coffin between them. It too, was raised to be carried on their shoulders as George and Bill took their positions. They followed the path between the students until they reached their position along side the first casket. Dennis and Hermione were the last out of the house, they closed the cottage door then while Dennis joined the other students, Hermione joined those who would walk with the twins. Aberforth righted and shouldered the Hogsmeade Mace then made his way to a position ahead of the two coffins. He turned to face them, bowed, then waited.

Petunia, Delilah, Molly, Hermione, Tarquin and Ginny then stepped forward in a line across the road, immediately behind the coffins, the Gryffindor's closed and formed two lines behind them, wands now back in their robes. Once they all moved into place, Aberforth turned to face along the road and still in silence, the solemn cortège began the slow, steady walk through the village. The crowd blocking the road behind them remained in place while the neighbours along the route joined the back of the procession. Only once the last of the families who lived on the street had joined the procession, did the other villagers in the crowd follow on, joining the end of the column. Those who lived further along, waiting for all to pass, before joining the procession, visitors remaining where they were, not wanting to interfere with the community paying it's respects. They and a few Aurors, sent to ensure that the village was safe while the residents all attended the funeral, were the only ones not in the procession, soon Hogsmeade would appear almost deserted.

Now the only noise in the village as they walked were the wind through the trees, birdsong and from the footsteps of those in, or joining the procession. No one said a single word, as the column of people walked behind the two casket's. The picturesque buildings were ignored, along with the usual points of interest the on any other day would be centre of attention, everyone was concentrated on the event they were attending,and showing their respect. They reached the end of the street and entered the village square, where those from the rest of the village stood, waiting the passage of the mourners. They had lined a route through the square, standing silently, patiently for the cortège to pass by, before joining the back of it. As the caskets passed, people bowed their heads respectfully then waited before joining the back of the black clad parade of humanity, every villager joined the column, leaving the visitors standing respectfully at the side of the road, watching as they passed by. Many of the day trippers were realising that today was perhaps not the best day for them to visit the village and certainly not wanting to intrude on the collective grief, left once the procession had passed them by, although of course that didn't prevent others arriving oblivious to what was going on, but puzzled that the place was completely closed. It would only be when they saw one of the Aurors, that they would discover the reason.

It was a steady paced walk to the grave yard, they left the square along the road out of the village that led to the stile where Harry had once met Sirius as snuffles during his fourth year at the school, soon after he had completed the second task in the Triwizard tournament. The gardens of the houses along the route were resplendent in their autumn colours, some had ordinary plants mixed in with the magical, a mix that gave them far more flowers than would be in Muggle gardens at this time of the year. They even gave off a scent that wafted through the air in places as they walked past any shrubs with a profusion of blooms against the russet leaves of another plant.

The enclosed area that was the village grave yard was opposite the style, which remained unchanged from when he had met Sirius there, but had escaped Harry's notice when he had last come this way, the only occasion in fact, hidden as it was behind a grass topped dry stone wall, the gate facing up the road, but set back along the wall. He had recently learned, from Aberforth, that it was known it had been used for burials since the days of the founders, but was not visited by many outsiders to the village, although there was nothing stopping them. Simple wooden gates at the entrance, were held open by the post master to allow the entire procession uninterrupted access to the well tended ground within. There were hundreds of grave markers dotting the green grass between the gravel paths and the walls, the oldest grave marker was just inside the gate, newest at the furthest extent of them. It was there, at the furthest point of the main path, where a double width grave pit was awaiting the arrival of the couple who would occupy it from this day on. The stones demonstrated the changing styles of markers through the centuries as they walked past them, all were well tended regardless of age.

Martin and Ludwig broke from the procession to take the postmasters place, ensuring that the gate was open for all to pass and allowing the man to join the head of the procession with Aberforth, to lead the mourners to the graveside. The two men walked round either side of the large grave, to the head, turned to face the procession while the Pall bearers positioned the coffins on the levitation charms above the hole, where they floated. The men taking position with the twins and their escort across the foot of the grave and along the sides, completing the square around the grave, whilst the other mourners in the procession assembled, silently, behind them.

The Gryffindor's stood directly behind the twins, who having been stoic during the walk were now, in floods of tears having arrived at the graveside, all of the ladies with them had comforting arms around them. Ginny squatting between the youngsters, an arm around each of them, the two youngsters leaning into her.

As civic leader of the village, the Postmaster conducted the ceremony and gave the official eulogy detailing the lives of the couple, information gathered from those who had known the couple. He then invited any present who wished to, to add their own personal memories and tributes. A number of the elder villagers told stories of child hood with the two, one spoke of the early days of their romance. Some of the tales were humorous, others simply personal, but each one gave an insight into the couple. Once the last had spoken, the Postmaster introduced the twins who had calmed as others had spoken, enjoying hearing about the couple who had shown them such love, finding it all strangely reassuring even laughing at some of the stories. They had made it known when the ceremony was being planned, that they wanted to speak as part of the commemoration, let all know just how special the couple were and what they had done for them.

"We only really knew Maggie and Eli a short time." Delilah began.

"Just the last few months of their lives really." Tarquin continued the twin-speak address.

"But, in that time they taught us more than we had ever learnt before."

"They taught us about places."

"And history both Muggle and wizard."

Many in the crowd were looking amazed at how the two seemed to be flawlessly giving the speech of one person.

"They taught us about nature." He continued

"And the beauty of our surroundings" She added.

"They taught us how to enjoy ourselves."

"And that it was fine to be ourselves."

They then spoke together, tears again running down their faces. "They taught us that we were loved and how to love."

Tarquin then continued. "The weeks we spent with them were the best so far in our lives. We shall try to live as they taught us; that is what they would want us to do."

"We shall miss them both, but never forget them and always love them, as they loved us." Delilah added,

Again together they concluded. "Goodbye Eli and Maggie you will always be in our hearts, as our friends in Whitby would say, Si thee some time, it were reet grand."

They stepped back to their places and into the arms of the four ladies with them, their emotions showing freely once again, as they could never have done only a few months before. The Postmaster used his wand to gently lower the coffins into the grave, where they settled side by side at the bottom, he then covered them, levitating the mound of earth on top of the coffins. Hermione stepped next to Petunia and raised her wand, the twins had asked her to conjure the grave stone; beneath the names and dates, the epitaph read "They truly knew life and how to live it. Now eternally united."

Then the twins laid a wreath against it and Ginny conjured a carpet of flowers to cover the bare earth. The twins then nodded to George, who nodded back, then released a single Weasley firework, one he had made especially on instructions from Eli and Maggie, which exploded with a gentle pop above them all, to reveal a twinkling image of the couple looking down fondly at the all wrapped within a wreath of golden sparks.

Aberforth lowered the Mace from his shoulder and held it in both hands, upright in front of him in salute. The image of Eli winked in his characteristic way, before the firework faded to nothing. Once it had, Aberforth re-shouldered the mace, formalities complete, he turned and together with the Postmaster made their way back to the path, then the two men slowly made their way back to the gate of the cemetery, where they stopped and waited. The silence continued, broken only by the sniffles of the mourners and renewed, but gentle, sobs of the twins. The pall bearers walked round the grave to help the ladies comfort the youngsters, the rest of the villagers remained, unmoving until the children where ready. Soon the twins settled enough to nod their readiness to leave, knowing they would be able to visit the grave often if they wanted to. Delilah, Molly, Tarquin and Arthur led the way, followed by Harry and Ginny, Dudley and Petunia, Ron and Hermione. George, Bill with Fleur and Victoire, Neville and Charlie led the Gryffindor's to head the procession back into the village, where they would process to Titchmarsh Cottage. Once the twins reached the gate, Aberforth shouldered the Mace then waited a moment to give the Gryffindor house guard of honour a chance to catch up and the first of the villagers to line up behind them.

As they waited, Hermione's eyes were drawn to the closest of the ancient looking hogs back stone markers. She saw the worn runes carved on it and gasped I surprise."Oh my word, that's incredible, Ron, look at that." She pointed to the stone.

Ron, Harry and Ginny looked where she pointed, it was the closest grave marker to the gate right next to the path. "What?" Ron asked

"That stone, the runes on it are in Futhark that looks like it could be one of the first burials here." She replied.

"What runes?" Ron asked

"On the side there." Hermione pointed "They are really clear for their age."

"It looks like there could be some lines carved there Hermione, but they are almost worn away. They could just as easily be the result of weathering, or deliberately carved, it really is not easy to tell" Harry said.

"But I can read them, they look clear to me, they could have been carved last week they are so crisp."

By this time the Postmaster was taking an interest.

"Clear?" Ron asked. " What do you mean? I can hardly see them."

Hermione looked at the others; it was obvious only she could read the runes. "They say Utred Huntrodds, the rightful Lord of Tang, first student of Gryffindor, Warrior and scholar lies here with his wife the Lady Frayja, student of Gryffindor, both Creaftas. Their first Magical descendant shall read what others may not." She finished.

"How come you can read that, the rest of us can't though?" Ron asked.

"Huntrodds, that's the same name as is on that grave at Whitby, you know the one I was told was my ancestors, where we saw those ghosts." She pondered a moment then thoughtfully added "So this is the grave of an Utred and Frayja Huntrodds, the stone must be about a thousand years old, I wonder if they are my ancestors as well?"

"I suppose it's possible, but 'Mione look into it later. We mustn't hold everyone up." Ron said urgently "We have to let everyone in at the cottage remember." The Funeral tea was to take place at Titch marsh cottage where Kreacher and Winky were preparing the food in a marquee near the pond. Madam Rosemerta and Aberforth had of course supplied the drinks.

"Oh yes, of course, but isn't it exciting, it could be that my ancestors lived here and we have simply returned the family here." She said enthusiastically and let him lead her away.

The Post Master had continued to watch the couple; he smiled to Hermione as they reached him. "You, my dear are clearly Utred's successor and the one destined to free him. We knew he was buried here from the local stories, they tell us that only the heir could read the runes, not an heir you understand, the heir. That much is known to all brought up in the village, but there is more, I will explain more if you wish at the funeral tea."

Hermione agreed she wanted to know more, especially as it could help her research further. They rejoined the others and the procession made it's way out through the gate, led by the Postmaster and Aberforth, carrying the Mace.

If the last person to leave had looked back, to glance at that earliest of gravestones, they may have noticed a faint, but powerful looking figure stood next to it watching them all leave. They might have done if they had looked back, but they hadn't so no one noticed and missed the impressive, tall ghostly figure of a man from the distant past watching them all leave. The ghost wore a long fur trimmed red and gold cloak and still brightly coloured tunic and hose. His leather boots reached his knees, chain mail that extended to form a skirt from beneath the tunic, which hung down to his knees. From his belt hung a magnificent sword in a jewelled scabbard that was so big it's tip was only a couple of inches above the ground, an equally decorated Seax that hung alongside it together with a carved stick tucked next to them. His Arms bore many golden arm rings and a bright metal helmet covered his head, long hair protruding from under it an a mane down his back. He watched the mortals leave and smiled. "The wait is over she will discover her destiny, soon we shall be freed at last and I shall be with my Frayja once more." He muttered, turned and faded away.

* * *

 **Authors Notes:**

Hope you enjoyed that, look forward to reading what you think if you are so kind as to read a review.

Until next time.

 **Historical notes:**

Caerloyw = Gloucester.

Seafern = the River Severn

Futhark is a runic alphabet, it was carved into wood or stone, generally so it was made up of straight lines, no curves, as they were more difficult to carve. There is no difference between the symbols for the modern letters J or Y, they were one letter in Futhark.

A Hogs Back grave stone was a large carved stone, domed across its length looking like the back of a grazing pig (hence the name). They were set lengthways along the grave, some still survive in situ in Northern Britain but far more have been excavated in graveyards, some of which are now church yards, and so the stone has ended up displayed within the church. They would have been expensive to create, so only the rich would have been able to afford them.

The church of the tenth century had powers to raise it's own tax and often attempted to impose it on all, whether believers or not. This was imposed over much of what is now England, Northumbria being a notable exception where only the Christian Saxons tended to pay. The cash was intended to pay for the clergy, buildings and shrines the bishops deemed necessary.

The Norman invasion and subsequent battle of Hastings was the third and final battle of 1066 for the throne of England. The first was the last "Viking" invasion from Scandinavia (although the Normans could be described as French Vikings and have been by some), the Battle of Fulford near York was on the 20th September, which the invaders won. They were subsequently heavily defeated at Stamford Bridge, also near York on the 25th September when King Harold Godwinson arrived with his Army (Fyrd) from the south. He then received word of the Norman invasion in the South and Marched his army back down the country where he was defeated at Hastings on the 14th October. These events over 24 days shaped the England we know today. It took another two years before the Normans reached York in 1068. The Norman invasion was the last successful one of the mainland of Britain to date and marked the end of what is commonly called the Viking Period in British history.


	12. The Loudest Cheer

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise from the wonderful books by J. K. Rowling belong to her and her publishers, I make no claim on it. Anything else is mine.

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Chapter 12.

The Loudest Cheer.

 **Late 20th Century.**

Those who had attended the funeral had walked in the procession from the graveyard, through the village streets behind the Mace watched by the few visitors that had either remained or had arrived while the burial took place and the Aurors who were protecting the village. The visitors who had arrived since the earlier parade had passed were wandering around, puzzled at the lack of activity, until they saw the column of people, then knew they had stumbled into a village in mourning. Once the column or villagers had reached the square at the centre of the village, instead of turning to take the road back to the cottage they had started from, they crossed diagonally so that they would take the road that led up to Hogwarts and to Titch Marsh cottage. Once more the Post master held open the gate, as he had initially at the graveyard, for everyone to pass from the short lane at the side of the property, allowing all those who had been at the funeral to go directly through into the back garden rather than via the narrow front path and through the house itself. The people who had attended filed through, Ron, Hermione, Dudley and Petunia went straight through to the house, to ensure all was ready, while Molly, Harry and Ginny stood near the gate with the twins, the other Weasley's helping guide people from there to ensure there was no hold ups. As everyone arrived, each person spoke with and commiserated with the twins, some even told them brief memories of Maggie and Eli as young people.

The two children stayed close to Harry and Ginny as they stood just inside the gate, along the path into the garden, enduring the attention each person was giving them, the sorrow and sympathy in each persons eyes. Each person attempted to assure the twins that they were so brave, or how sweet they looked, in the way of people who really didn't know what to say, but felt the need to say something, would say to grieving children. The adults may be feeling awkward with the chief mourners, but of all the things they had needed to do today this had been the part both Tarquin and Delilah had dreaded more than any of the others. Being the centre of the attention of all these well meaning strangers, was just as uncomfortable as they had feared and more. Thanks to how their Aunt Delores had treated them and despite their lives since her imprisonment, they were not confident in this situation, they were glad of the reassurance the presence of their teachers and Molly gave them. Once everyone had passed them by and spoken with them, words they had barely heard, duty done, Tarquin and Delilah relieved, went to help keep Teddy occupied on the verandah of the Summer House. After only a few minutes it was evident that the toddler, who was overjoyed to see them, was definitely helping build the twins spirits up in the way only he could. Molly and Andromeda were sat on the verandah as well, in two comfortable chairs which they had conjured to use, chatting to each other and any who came to see them. The twins were happy to stay with them and Teddy, it was, after all, far better being with their young friend than putting up with the sad, sympathetic, brave little soldiers, looks many of the women in the garden were giving them every time they looked towards them.

The garden was full of the people of the village, some standing talking, others sat on one of the numerous conjured chairs around the grounds. Others found tables and waited for refreshment, whilst others took the opportunity to see what Ron and Hermione had done with the garden since they had moved in. Rosemerta and her staff, together with Kreacher and Winky could be seen flitting between people carrying jugs of Butterbeer or Pumpkin Juice, trays with glasses and tankards of stronger drinks, from the house where she had set up to cater for the funeral tea. The Gryffindor students were helping as well, carrying plates laden with food round for the guests, they were all busily ensuring everyone had the opportunity to have some refreshments if they wished. The two elves took particular care to ensure the twins and Teddy were well supplied with drinks and food as they wanted it, before they and the students sat near the verandah to enjoy some for themselves, the Girls fussing over Teddy. Kreacher and Winky took the break, food and drink only on direct orders to do so from Harry, but even so they returned to work the moment they had eaten what they had been given.

Harry and Ginny were chatting with Dudley near the Summer House, Maria had been unable to get time off work to attend the funeral, though she had made sure the twins knew she would be thinking of them and promised she would try to see them before they returned to Hogwarts the next day. Ron and Hermione joined them after they had circulated amongst the guests, many of whom had commented about them opening their garden to host the funeral tea, then asked about their plans for the house.

"Well it went as well as these things can ever do." Hermione commented, glancing over to the twins. "They held up well too, better than I might have done in their place, that's for certain." She sighed.

"Yes, thank goodness they did, the poor kids, they have been through so much. Still it is not sympathy they want, they have had their fill of that at the gate today. They just need us to be there for them, to be ourselves, I think that is the least we can do for them." Ginny looked at Hermione. "So how are you both settling in here? I'm sorry we haven't been able to visit yet, it's been a hectic start to the year at Hogwarts so far I'm afraid."

"So we heard and more to come I understand, never an uneventful year for any of us at Hogwarts is it. It is wonderful here, we both love this place we are still settling in really of course though. It helps that commuting to the Ministry everyday is no trouble, it would be impossible for us to live here and for me to work there without Magic of course." Hermione smiled. "There will be chance for you to come soon I hope, you know you're welcome anytime."

"Dud likes visiting us, don't you old chap." Ron grinned elbowing his Muggle colleague jovially in the ribs.

Harry grinned, it was clear that his brother in Law and cousin were getting on well, both at work and outside it too.

"Sure do, Ron." Dudley laughed in reply, then turned to Harry. "Life here is so different, more like when we were in Derbyshire to be honest, busy, but somehow more relaxed, less stressful. It's great to have people who I know so close by, mind you, it has to be said that everyone in the village has welcomed me warmly."

"So you are finding your way round then Dud, I hear you are settling in well, not getting bored without all the gadgets are you?" Harry asked.

"Well, Aberforth's place is a bit odd, but I am yet to go there or Rosmerta's on my own, she's friendly though,can't speak highly enough about you lot you know." Dudley responded. "It's certainly helped to have people here that I already knew and Maria comes most evenings after work too. We spend most evenings in the village, usually in the flat or here, but as I say we have been to both pubs and walked round the place, we went to Madam Puddifoots, but neither of us are fond of the place, far too sickly sweet for our tastes really, but it was an experience. We Floo to Maria's parents at least once a week, usually my night off from lessons, though I learn even more from them as well. Wherever we go everyone is a great help with the lessons that Minerva set up for mum and I, believe it or not I am enjoying them. Who would have believed it a couple of years ago, least of all me, but I must admit I am loving it all, work, lessons and friends. I can honestly say that I've never been happier, thank god I grew up enough to find out, before it was too late."

"I hear Maria's father is very taken with you too Dud, he sings your praises whenever I see him at the Cabinet. He says his wife fusses over you and worries about you being on your own in the flat." Harry teased lightly.

"Oh yes, almost as much as Mrs. Weasley does over you Harry." Winked Dudley jovially. "She sends Maria with food parcels for me at least twice a week, I am getting quite a taste for her cooking, she makes a really fantastic cherry pie. I am being careful about that though, I want to keep my new figure, she knows that too, but wants to spoil me a bit she says."

It was true that the potion had been as effective as expected, he had completed the course and he liked his trimmer profile, as did Maria, he was determined to keep it too. Poppy had also kept a check on his heart after the treatment and while he still had to be a little careful about over exerting himself for a while longer, it was now as it should be.

Dudley grinned and added. "I think she and Molly have got Mum over her fear of Owls, they are all writing to each other at least once a week, I dread to think what about though."

They continued to chat and mingled with others in the garden, introducing Dudley to people from the village he had not yet met, all of whom were interested in how he was settling in. Hermione spent quite a while with the Postmaster discussing the legend surrounding Utred Huntrodds grave.

It was odd to realise, but they each had quite an enjoyable time at an event to mark such a sad occasion, that afternoon, as it seemed did the Villagers and guests.

It was after a couple of hours in the garden socialising, that people came over to the twins for a last word of condolence and began to leave, slowly, a few at a time to begin with, then more going as they noticed others departing, soon the garden felt quite empty, although some lingered. Most of the shops in the village would not reopen until the next day anyway, so there really was no rush for any of the villagers at all, though some had mentioned they were going to use the rest of the day to catch up with a few chores around their homes and businesses that they would not have otherwise had chance to do. Soon after people began to leave, it was time for the students to return to school, they said their goodbyes and left as a group, Petunia, who that afternoon had somehow gained the honorific of the Aunt of Gryffindor house from them, with them, to walk back up to the castle. The twins, who thanked each and every one of the Gryffindor's for their support and for not treating them as anything other than house mates all day, would return in time for lessons the next morning. An hour later, once the last of the guests had left, the Weasley's, Potters, Dursley's, Andromeda, Teddy and Hermione, with the twins, relaxed in the garden, where they were joined by Maria, once she arrived after she had finished work.

Hermione and Ginny were talking about the things going on in the village and at the Ministry, while the twins greeted Maria. By the time Maria had got sat down, Hermione had moved on to telling Ginny about what she had read on the gravestone and what the Postmaster had discussed with her during the afternoon. She was clearly excited by all she had found out and eager to get on with her research, now she had another avenue to explore.

"Ginny, you remember the Huntrodds at Whitby, you know, those two Ghosts in the church near Caedemon's?" Hermione asked eagerly, before going on to explain without waiting for an answer. "Well, when I spotted that very old grave stone today, I saw it was for a Huntrodds too, an Utred Huntrodds as well as his wife Frayja, next to another one of about that is thought to be for a queen who was reputed to be very close to them according to the village history I have been told this afternoon. The Post master has told me of the story that he was Gryffindor's first student, it is said he saved the village and Castle as well, though I am not sure how, or who from yet. Apparently, there is a legend that after a thousand years his family would re-emerge and settle in the village, the villagers would know when the family had returned, as only the descendant would be able to read the runes on the grave. It also says the one who does is the one who alone has the power to save thousands. Well, he thinks that as I could read the runes, long faded as he described them, that the one with the power is me. It all sort of fit's in with what Firenze said, remember that day we met him on the Hogwarts driveway. I need to find out more about this Utred and what is so important about me being the one able to read the runes. It seems obvious there must be a reason for all this, if only I knew what. Could you see if there's anything on him in the Hogwarts library for me, if you have time? I'm going to check the Ministry archive and try to trace the family in the Muggle records as well."

Ginny looked at her friend, feeling a little awkward. She thought for a moment, then decided that the time had come, she had to tell her friend. "Well to be honest Hermione, I already know a little, we have a book in the Black library which has quite a lot about Utred in it. Dumbledore's picture advised us that it would be better to wait before we told you, at least until you asked about your Ancestor, before we said anything. I'm afraid we took that advice, we decided we had to let things take their course, I'm sorry if that was wrong. I'm sure we can get it to you if you would like to see it of course, it's in Harry's office I think, I'll send it down to you with Tiberius later."

Hermione didn't seem to notice her friend's discomfort, she was too thrilled to have a definite source of information to follow. "Oh yes please, it's bound to help make things less woolly than the information I have to go on so far, mind you almost anything new is likely to do that at the moment." She nodded her agreement enthusiastically just as Ron came over and joined them, ending the conversation for the time being at least.

Molly and Andromeda took the children back to the Burrow soon after the conversation between the two ended, Harry and Ginny needed to get back to the castle, so followed them into the Floo and returned to their rooms at the school, just in time to go to the Great Hall for the start of Dinner. The atmosphere at the meal was much as usual, the students, even those at the Gryffindor table, talked and joked just as loudly as always, released from lessons, or duty, for the day. It was a completely normal end, to a day that had been anything but, for many in the room. It was a reassuring sign that the twins would be returning to life as it should be in the school, the sooner their lives were back to a normality for them, the sooner they could look forward. Harry and Ginny were glad the twins would soon be back among their friends and the routine of the school, they knew it would help the two begin to heal, they also knew there was one more hurdle for the youngsters coming in a few days time. At the weekend, they would learn the last wishes of Eli and Maggie.

Once the couple were back in their rooms after the meal and spending time with their colleagues telling them about the events of the day, they checked in with their students then returned to their rooms. They settled gratefully on the sofa, Ginny snuggled up to Harry. "Hermione started talking about the Huntrodds today, she saw Utred's grave stone. I said I'd send her the book." She told him as Kreacher arrived with their usual pre bedtime drinks.

"It's started then, her path to her destiny, ah well she helped me to achieve my destiny and it is no problem to do what we can for her, neither of us asked for it after all." Harry suggested, as he took the drink. "Thank you Kreacher."

Ginny thanked Kreacher as well as she took her drink, then replied to Harry. "Looks like it, I told Minerva about it too, at dinner. Hermione may want to speak with her or something as well, at least I expect she will."

"She might!" Harry agreed thoughtfully, then told her. "The book is in my office love, in the case behind the desk. We had best send it now before we forget, then she'll know as much as we do, probably by the morning, knowing how impatient she will be to get on with discovering new information." He grinned

"Behave Harry!" Ginny playfully told him off, then went to collect the book and returned to find Tiberius had arrived and was patiently waiting.

"He's just arrived from the Owlery." Harry commented grinning. "Just like Hedwig isn't he, he seems to know when we need him instinctively."

Ginny smiled as she tied the book to the Owls leg. "Of course you do don't you Tiberius, just like Hedwig, you love your humans don't you." She cooed stroking the proud owl's head with her finger, her tone became more serious as she give him his instructions. "Not far to go this time boy, just a short hop with this book to Hermione in the village all right, she is expecting you so you should be able to get back to all those girl owls or hunting soon."

The owl hooted and rubbed his head against her hand happily before he took off to fly out through the window. Ginny smiled then returned to the sofa. "The twins coped well today I thought." She said as she snuggled back up to Harry, again.

"Yes let's hope that continues this weekend, at the will reading,that could be harder for them." He replied yawning. "I don't know about you love, but it's been a long day, I'm ready to go to bed."

Ginny grinned. "Come on then sleepy head, you've done well today, you are staying awake longer and longer each day it seems. Still, I know it took a lot for you to get through today as well, come on, I'll tuck you in my darling." She teased as she stood and held out her hand to help him up.

She couldn't help, but be a little concerned when, instead of grinning at her ribbing or responding, Harry simply nodded and gratefully accepted her hand to help pull himself up, before she helped him to the bedroom.

In the corridor outside the entrance to the Gryffindor dormitories a little noticed portrait was deep in excited conversation with what appeared to be a spirit of a warrior from the past, observed only by the guardian portrait over the hidden entrance. She smiled as she say the spirit approach the portrait, which looked like a mirror image of the ghost. She listened expectantly to the news the apparition brought, smiling as she heard the familiar Ghost say. "You were right, it is her, she could read my stone, I saw it for myself." With great expectation in his tone, a feeling the two portraits also shared.

* * *

That Saturday, as soon as they had each eaten breakfast, Harry and Ginny walked solemnly with the twins, up to the headmistress' office. Most of the students were either starting to enjoy the freedom of the weekend in the common rooms and grounds, participating in a club or were busily working on their homework assignments, things the two Potter's knew the twins would rather be doing today. Those pleasant activities would have to wait however, the time for reading the last Will and Testament of Eli and Maggie had arrived, Harry and Ginny hoped it would help the twins, rather than set them back.

Kingsley and Oliver Gresley were waiting for them seated in the office, for what was the next hurdle the twins must endure, hoping to make this as easy as they could for them. It was unusual, though not unheard of, for the reading to be held outside Gringotts walls. The bank had agreed with the minister that on this occasion it was more compassionate to hold the reading in the headmistress' office, if only because the main beneficiaries were underage students whose assets were held in a trust. Kingsley had also agreed to pay the fee to the bank for the service as well, of course. As the group walked into the office, a Gringotts Goblin turned to watch them approach though his expression did not change, nor did the Goblin offer any kind of greeting to them as he watched them cross the room from his seat next to the headmistresses desk. Further chairs were arranged around the room facing the Goblin, enough seats for those expected to be in attendance.

Kingsley smiled a greeting. "Good to see you all, Delilah, Tarquin; how are you? Are you both settling in to your new house here?"

"Very well thank you for asking Minister, for both questions sir." Said Delilah, a trace of a smile briefly breaking through her sombre expression, she sat down in a chair near the shelf that held the sorting hat, Tarquin sat next to her silently, both looking very serious.

"Good, I think that's everyone, so lets get it done so you two can get on with things. As you know we are here to read the will of Mr and Mrs Symonite, or Maggie and Eli as most of us knew them, today. I understand they deposited their last will at Gringotts only a few weeks before they died, Elrond is here." Kingsley indicated the Goblin sat at a small table opposite the twins. "To ensure everything is done as it should be, as well as to facilitate any transfers needed as a result of the will."

"Now you two, are you happy for us to proceed with this?" Oliver asked kindly.

Both twins looked to Harry and Ginny, who smiled back reassuringly, the two children nodded their agreement and everyone sat down. Elrond clicked his fingers and a small glossy black box with bright brass hinges and lock appeared on the table next to him. He took a key from his pocket, reached over to the casket, opened it and took out a scroll of parchment, sealed with red wax, which he handed to the minister. "Minister this is the last will and testament of Mr and Mrs Symonite, Wizard and Witch both of Hogsmeade, though latterly of Whitby. I certify that this is the most recent and therefore the only valid one, which they jointly made in the bank some weeks ago." The Goblin announced."I have the necessary authority to act on behalf of the bank, if necessary, to distribute any gold held in any vaults and conduct any business required immediately on conclusion of the reading."

"Thank you Elrond, that is most kind. Twins, are you happy that I read this out for you or would you prefer some one else to do it for you." Asked Kingsley.

"No, it's fine for you to do it, if you would please, minister." Tarquin finally found his voice.

Kingsley smiled, nodded, saw that Delilah agreed, or at least had no objection, so he broke the seals, both wax and magical, unrolled the parchment, took a deep breath and began to read.

"This is the last will and testament of Eli and Maggie Symonite, both being of sound mind though of elderly body, recorded on their behalf by Sharpfang of Gringotts,in the presence of the Symonite's and their legal advisor. Delilah and Tarquin we want to thank you for helping us enjoy our last months on this plane together. Through you two, two tired, elderly people re-found their youth and enthusiasm for life. Even though we are quite old, your enthusiasm for life was energising, we are only sorry we didn't know of your suffering earlier. We deeply regret not realising it that time you were with us before, but we are very glad you came to us and enabled us to show you another side of life. We hope you will always remember life is for living and we hope you will live yours to the full. Don't live your lives in regrets, you have so much to look forward to now, don't waste it on whatever might have been, we may not like it, but none of us can change what is past, so don't waste any more time on it, just focus on what you want to be, where you want to go and you will achieve whatever you want. There is no doubt that you have some very good and influential friends who care about you, we know they will help you as you make your way through life, just as we all need that help sometimes. You are wonderful children who did more for us than you will know, at least until you are older, as is right at your age after all, for that we thank you. Never lose that curiosity to find out, the wonder that you showed us, which was a part of giving us both renewed enthusiasm. Harry, Ginny and Mr. Gresley are your trustees, along with Healer Gilbert, they will look after things for you until you both come of age, listen to them, they each have your interests at heart, of that we are more than certain. Everything we had in life is now yours, for your futures our beloved twins. You deserve it all and more than we are able to give, we hope that what we can will go some way to helping you both to be happy in the future, at least help make your lives easier. We hope you will remember our short time together fondly, but ask you not to dwell on how it ended. Please think of the good times and perhaps one day, you will be taking your own children to some of the places we took you, as well as to others you find for yourselves. We hope you will want to, at least, but don't feel that you have too just because we would like you to. Our memories of the time we had together are some of the happiest of our entire lives, the pleasure you expressed at each new place and sight, gave us so much joy, to share that with you both made this last summer one of the best of our lives to say the least. We are so proud of what you have achieved in so short a time, your strength in turning your lives around and becoming who you now are, foretells of the kind of adults you will grow into. With the two of you as close as you are, we are sure you will have the strength and bravery to continue on the path you have chosen, you have proven you are more than capable of achieving whatever you set your minds to, but never be afraid to accept help, especially from your friends. We may not be there with you, or to help you now, but we will always be with you in your memories and hearts hearts, we wait to greet you when see you once more in the next great adventure, wherever we are now, but hope it will be a very long time until you join us here. Enjoy your lives, we shall always be with you in your hearts and memories. Remember our dearest ones, love you with all our hearts and thank you for what you gave us both while you were with us."

There was a silent pause as Kingsley finished reading the will, which both Eli and Maggie had signed and was witnessed, by both Sharpfang and the solicitor. He looked like he was reading it over again for a moment, before, with a slight shake of his head, he slowly rolled it up then handed it back to Elrond.

"Thank you, Minister." The Goblin bowed. "I am satisfied that all that is required at this time has been done, I shall see to everything required to ensure that all assets are transferred to the twins trust for them. A copy of this Will, will be deposited with the Wizangamot archive and in any appropriate vaults concerned. I shall forward a complete list of properties, an inventory of any artefacts, other items and gold added to the trust, to the trustees on Monday, it shall be up to them to inform the Twins when convenient." He turned to the twins. "Unless you have any questions or immediate needs, I shall take my leave."

"I don't think so Mr. Elrond, thank you for bringing the Will and for your work." Delilah smiled sadly.

"Yes thank you Mr. Elrond, I don't think there is anything I can think of either Sir." Tarquin agreed.

The Goblin nodded and replied kindly. "Thank you both, please if you do think of anything please send me an Owl, or ask your trustees who will also help. In the mean time I must return to the bank and set matters in motion for you, may your gold always flow." He turned, stepped into the fire and in a flare of green, was gone.

Once the Goblin had left there were a few moments of silence, before Oliver gently spoke. "There is something more you two need to know, Delilah, Tarquin, another matter that Maggie and Eli did for you."

The children looked up at him in puzzlement, tears that had started to run during the reading staining their cheeks, their silent mourning for their Aunt an Uncle no longer raw and painful, but simply the sadness of the knowledge they were gone and would not be returning. Somehow, even after the emotion of the funeral, it had been the reading of the Will that had seemed to be the end, the final goodbye to their Aunt and Uncle.

"More? But, I thought wills were supposed to cover everything?" Asked Delilah, wiping her eyes on a handkerchief, as her brother did the same on his sleeve before he loudly sniffed.

Resisting the urge to laugh at the disgusted look Delilah shot her brother, Harry grinned as he reassured her."This is something a Will may not necessarily have to cover, but which they both planned for and Maggie ensured was in place for you both as a result."

Ginny grinned at Delilah's antics as well, added. "You see, while they were ill, they realised that after they had died, you two would be on your own, unless something was done about making sure you would be looked after. After Eli died, Maggie took the steps they had agreed between them, to ensure you could be part of a family who would welcome you, that you already know well and who they knew you would enjoy being part of."

"They also knew that they would be a family who would love you enough to help guide you, as well as help you to flourish." Harry assured them.

Kingsley looked at the twins puzzled faces. "She signed some papers, to allow you to go to be part of this family, if you want to. She even sought and easily gained their agreement, but it is your choice in the end, if you agree then all is clear to let them adopt you."

"Hang on! Adopt us? Does that mean we would be their kids and no one would be able to change that?" Asked Tarquin dubiously.

"Yes, Tarquin, you would have a whole new family of your own, to look after you until you come of age, when you become adults. You would still be part of the family after that, just not children of course. It is what Eli and Maggie hoped you would want, they thought it would be better for you to become part of a family you knew and liked rather than be cared for by strangers. Maggie thought it would be what you preferred and she gave authority for it to happen, but only if it is what you want as well. All it would take for it to happen, is for you both to agree to it and it shall happen. That said, even if you want to be part of this family, you could keep your surname if you wanted, but only if you really want to." Smiled Minerva. "The family have already agreed to take you in, they have signed the papers, which will only be finalised and lodged at the ministry if you agree. You two would be the youngest in the family, but it does mean having quite a few more brothers Delilah, and another sister or two Tarquin, as well as a few more people to buy Christmas presents for and remember the birthday's of, of course it will also mean lots more presents for you two as well." She teased.

Delilah's face suddenly lit up in delight."Oh! I think I know who you are talking about, I think Weasley would be a good surname, especially for two new Gryffindor's."

Tarquin caught on immediately and his eyes widened with excited disbelief. "That means we would be related to Harry, Ginny and George, and wouldn't it make Dudley our cousin in law or something too? Are Mr. And Mrs. Weasley sure they want to do this?"

"Well, you could always ask them that for yourselves if you want to you know." Said Minerva smiling, she opened the office door and in walked a smiling Molly and Arthur. "Tarquin was asking if you are sure?" She told them, knowing the answer already, she knew Molly's mothering instinct and that Arthur would love to have another set of twins in his family.

Molly looked at the two children, they could see the sincerity in her eyes."Oh, of course we are my dears, if you want us, we are here for you and couldn't be happier to take you in as our own." She smiled.

"We more than willingly made our decision, without hesitation at all, when we signed the papers so it's up to you both now, really." Smiled Arthur, his eyes sparkling with joy. "We would love to have you as part of our family, it would be our pleasure to welcome you into it, I must warn you however, it will take you a little while to get used to all the Weasley's, Potter's and Granger's when we get together not to mention the Prewitts, who, apart from one, make the rest of us look almost normal and that one has recently shown she is as crackers as the rest of us. You will be expected to pitch in with everyone, you know, we all do, so don't say I didn't warn you."

The twins stood as one and ran over to the couple, Delilah to the Arms of Arthur, Tarquin to Molly who returned their embraces enthusiastically. "We don't mind that, not at all." Delilah Laughed.

"Well maybe the chores a bit, but who wouldn't." Tarquin grinned, to Arthur's amusement.

Molly laughed. "So I take it you want us to be your parents then?"

"We would love to be Weasley's, even if we haven't got red hair." The twins cried happily in unison.

"George knows a spell to correct that if you would like to remedy that, twins." Harry dead paned, then grinned widely.

"Harry, behave! They don't need red hair any more than you did." Giggled Ginny, taking a playful swipe at his arm, remembering how her brother had made the same offer to Harry once. "Looks like I have another brother and sister though, two more for the Christmas party. Kreacher and Winky will be pleased, by the time we break up for the holiday what's the betting they have sorted out a room each for these two to stay in at Grimmauld place. Hopefully it will make up for us not having a large New year party this year, they were so disappointed when we told them, they had hoped it would become an annual event."

Tarquin turned to his sister. "I want to change my surname, show we are putting everything that happened behind us, getting on with the lives we have, not the one we had, just as Maggie and Eli wanted us to."

Delilah nodded. "Do you remember, Dad always said mum gave us our names and he only gave us his surname, it might haunt us the rest of our lives after what he did. I agree getting rid of his name is a good idea, but I want to keep the link to Mum."

"Yes I remember, yes that would be good, none of it was her fault after all." He replied. "Is that all right?" He looked at the Weasley's.

"Of course it is, we had not thought to change your names unless you wanted it my dears, so of course you may keep the names your mother gave you." Molly replied.

"Well, in that case Oliver." Said Kingsley happily addressing his colleague. "I think we had better go and finalize the adoption paperwork for them, as well as officially change their surnames, then by the end of the day they will be Weasley's."

"Yes please." Called the twins excitedly.

Oliver and Kingsley left soon afterwards, Kingsley would be back at the castle the next day, for the arrival of the Romanian Quidditch team. Arthur, Molly and the excited twins went for a walk in the grounds.

* * *

 **10** **th** **Century:**

The staff and students of Hogwarts were completely oblivious to the recent events that had taken place in the Northumbrian King's palace at Jorvik, for the time being at least even though it had in fact been a few days since they had occurred. Though news of the movement of the saints remains would likely reach them soon enough, along with other news from the City, elsewhere in Northumbria and further South into Wessex, it would take time.

The staff and students had the prospect of other, more enjoyable activities to occupy them, whilst the Northumbrian hierarchy struggled to control each other in their power struggle over the throne of Englaland, as well as the wealth and power that went with it. They were unaware that King Styr of Northumbria had his eye on their sanctuary and sacrificing them as part of his plans to win the game of thrones between himself, Wessex and the Christian church. Those pieces of news would reach the castle soon, as new people and traders arrived in nearby settlements and the residents of Hogsmeade went to them to trade as well, or when the spies from Jorvik or Wessex returned with their reports. They had spies elsewhere in Northumbria too, but not many and they would only report back when they knew there was something about to happen that was a direct threat, they could not risk giving away why they were really where they were.

Winter had come to the grounds of the castle early this Autumn, at least for a few days, perhaps a taste of a hard season yet to come. The ground bore a light dusting of snow, crisped by the overnight freezing temperature, which rose only enough remove the white of frost from the edges of the leaves on the trees during the day, leaving the grass to give a satisfying crunch underfoot. By the lake, the former hunting lodge from the forest of Galtres near Tang, had been greatly expanded and mounted on the new stone filled foundations dug after the demolition of the old school houses. It's new height, only a foot or so to the floor, affording a clear view to observe school, lawns, lake and forest edge, whilst lifting it above the level of flood waters on the rare occasions the lake broke it's banks. It was almost unrecognisable as the building brought from that Northumbrian forest that still formed the structures core, it now provided the perfect location for Erik and Egil to watch the activities the staff and students were competing in across the grounds later in the day. The two had planned to ensure they enjoyed the entertainment, as fully as they possibly could, so while others prepared the competitions, they equipped their vantage point to ensure their comfort and that of any guess they may have for the day.

The two muggles had actually been very surprised when the events of this day had been agreed, especially as it had been quite so readily and easily. Most in the school knew that even though the Creaftas were now part of the staff of the castle, any plans they might have, or suggest, outside lessons and established school activities, especially if they were trying to get others involved, should be approached with a healthy dose of caution. Similarly, if Godric and Salazar overly excitedly suggested an activity would be great fun for everyone, it usually meant that it had not had the calming, considered influence of Rowena and Helga, ensuring that at least a semblance of common sense had been applied to what ever mischief was planned. Not that, that in itself always ensured the safety or sensibleness of the activity, oft times quite the contrary in fact. The two lady founders were just as capable of pranks and mayhem as their male counterparts, when the mood took them. However, in general, their ideas were not usually quite as inherently dangerous as the men's suggestions often were in this regard, especially those the Creaftas themselves, were likely to suggest. Add the Creafta's Ladies into the mix of such plotting, then even new students, who had not been at the castle any more than a day or so, would hide to avoid getting embroiled in any scheme they may hear the slightest whisper of. They were often quite wise to do so, if they valued their lives, limbs, sanity or any combination of those things in the slightest. Only if, once the idea was fully known, carefully considered by everyone and deemed to be worth a go, could there be some assurance that participants were expected to survive such an event completely unscathed. Oddly no one felt in the least bit frightened or threatened by this, it was all part of the fun of living in the castle. All the students and most of the staff enjoyed most of the antic's that resulted, knowing that no malice was intended by any of them, even though they all knew to be wary of getting in the way.

This all being true as well as widely acknowledged as such, it was an understatement to say that when Utred came up with the idea for a day of competitive sports, it was a touch surprising when the whole school forgot the usual caution which they normally adopted. Which resulted in them all happily, even enthusiastically allowing the Founders, Creaftas and their Ladies to organise it. Alarm bells even failed to ring when they all saw how eager they all were to do the task or even with the event ideas they were coming up with for the individual competitions that would be held on the day.

Godric announced the events they had organised for the day that morning, as each event was announced a parchment appeared on the wall, for those interested in participating to sign up for, they had an hour after the last of the sheets had appeared in which to do so. The moment it appeared there was a rush of students and staff, eager to participate in the event or events they would hope to win. Once the hour was over, it was evident that almost all of the students had excitedly signed up to at least one of the events and many of the staff, including founders and Creaftas had as well. Some of the students, mostly Slytherin's had been more cautious, but were soon persuaded, by peer pressure and thoughts of bringing glory to their house to sign up. By the appointed time for the start of the events almost everyone in the school was taking part in at least one activity, everyone except the two Muggle duelling teachers and an elderly Squib who was a regular visitor who planned to watch and encourage participants in their own particular way from seats they had placed on their vantage point at the Lodge. Such encouragement everyone knew would probably involve a good deal of shouting, heckling, teasing and the drinking of a large quantity of the beer the two made regularly for all at the school to drink.

Erik, Ulf and Orin sat, waiting expectantly on the newly created platform outside the Lodge, watching as Founders, Creaftas and their Ladies tried to create order from the chaos they had created. Trying to organise participants for the various opening tournaments, they directed the apprentices and other staff to the different areas in which they could participate in their chosen event. This was the first official tournament between the houses, as such it was quite the experiment to see if it would work. The various competitions and games were to take place in different parts of the grounds and lake, hopefully with safe distances between them so they would not cross each other. With the numbers in the houses being fairly even and every event attracting members from each, it had been decided to keep the method of deciding the tournament winners simple. The house with the most student wins at the end of the day would win the entire tournament, although there would be individual prizes for the individual winners, there would also be one for the winning house. Most of the games were well known at the school, but there were two eagerly anticipated competitions which no one in the school had been able to practise before today. These two events needed certain equipment that had not been available before at the castle, so when it was decided to hold them they had caused a great stir, with much discussion on how they would beheld, until the day before.

Both of the events relied on the availability of ships, which they had not had at the school before. Even though being able to row and sail were no doubt useful skills, there seemed little point in going to the expense of buying any vessels just to use on the lake. Although the lake was large and it would have been possible to manoeuvre a large ship on it, it was also land locked, drawing water from the many streams that fell from the surrounding mountains, to outfall over a ridge into a fast moving narrow river in a wide gully below, so there was nowhere to sail a ship to. However Erik, Ulf, and some of the villagers had decided it would be good to have some ships, at the very least having them on the lake would mean that those who knew how to control a vessel could pass this knowledge on. They built two small eight oar vessels with sails, perfect for racing over the lake.

The Creaftas had found out, so had been involved in that project, but Utred remembered his father's large ship that had been on the Ouse at Jorvik. It had sailed each summer to trade, he had sailed with it for two weeks with his Father, the summer before he had come to Hogwarts and had thoroughly enjoyed it. They had sailed south to East Anglia and back, a short voyage on calm, undulating seas with nothing more than a few squalls of rain to spoil the trip. Utred had loved the feel of the ship beneath his feet, it's speed and smoothness as it cut through the water, betraying what it had been built as. Although mainly used for trade, that had simply been a means to ensure it paid for itself, but in reality it had been built for a different purpose entirely, a task it had been equally successful at. It was a sleek, fast warship and could easily have been used as it had been once more. As it had been beached in the Fosse for the winter when his family had been killed, he expected such a valuable vessel would have been claimed by Styr or the Church and either used by their men, or sold off.

With that in mind he had led the Creaftas into the forest and they had created a clearing in the forest on the far side of the lake, out of sight of the school. Rather than simply transfigure the trees, they had used magic to create the components from the trunks and limbs, then assembled them into a large sleek, fast, forty oar longship. It was a warship, complete with mast, rigging and large sail, all transfigured from the mass of materials, too small for anything else, from the trees. They had levitated it into the water, still out of sight of the school, ballasted it with rocks they summoned from the bottom of the lake to ensure it was stable, then proudly sailed it across the lake the day before the tournament. They had not warned any one, so the appearance of such a ship was much to the surprise of the rest of the school and amusement of the mermaids inhabiting the waters, who breached the surface as they played along side it while it's hull sliced through the calm water. It had been a magnificent sight, even without a figure head on the prow, that beast was under the forward platform, hidden so as not to scare the spirits of the friendly shore. Even as they neared the side of the lake, they kept the sails full, the ship maintained it's speed as Utred hung on the rudder handle, steering for the shallow beach at the bottom of the lawns in front of the castle, where the long houses had once stood. The slender hull cut smoothly through the water, it's low sides sweeping up from the water at bow and stern high above the ripples on the surface of the lake, leaving a widening smooth wake to spread behind them. The only oar visible was the steering oar at the stern, where the figure of Utred could be seen, his hair streaming behind him, by those on the shore, leaning on it through the space below the taught bowl of the sail which caught the wind and thrust the vessel forward through the mast. With the high prow of the ship just twenty feet from the shore, the sail was loosened to spill the wind, then quickly dropped completely, the steersman keeping the course straight, it slid smoothly up the beach, stopping with it's prow sufficiently landed to reassure the spirits it was no threat to them and the beast head, a great carved dragon, painted fearsomely and with dark, polished Jet eyes, was only then put in place. By the time all the students and staff had arrived on the shore, Utred and the Creaftas were stood on the prow, grinning broadly.

All three of the vessels were now securely moored at the edge of the lake, the two smaller would be used for rowing and sailing races in the afternoon, with the re floated larger vessel hosting an oar walking tournament finale for personal glory lit by flaming torches as night fell. Despite this event being known to be Utred's idea, it had proved surprisingly popular amongst the male population of the school when entries had opened. It was surprising how many of the males wanted to prove their prowess on the challenge, especially considering the strong likely hood of discovering just how cold the water had already become at first hand. The women and girls just laughed in anticipation, deciding who they would most enjoy seeing dunked, Helga and Rowena along with others including the Creaftas ladies planning to cast cooling charms on the water for some of the competitors. Needless to say, none of the girls or women had felt the urge to enter this particular competition, although they had been free to do so, which meant it had become an event of male ego, and so the perfect opportunity for the women to enjoy at the expense of the male population of the school. However, before that event would begin, all the other competitions would reach there conclusion and champions found.

The least active of all the events was the Hnefatafl tournament, each house putting forth it's strongest player of the strategic board game. This event was not a spectacular spectator sport, however it had the benefit of being staged near the entrance, so a number of students whose events had not yet begun stood watching the opening games in an area near the steps to the castle, sheltered from the wind and away from the noise generated by the first sprint races taking place near the forest.

The first round of sprints over a measured one hundred paces were fast and furious. This had been a popular event and there were to be quite a number of heats, the winner of each going forward to run again in one of the winners races, the winner of which qualified for the next leg and so on before a champion could be declared. A gap between the early heats and the first leg of winner's races, enabled the cross country endurance race round the perimeter of the grounds and outer boundary of the village to be started. The distance of some eight miles was expected to take some time to run, the route was marked and watched over by a number of villagers in case any competitor was injured and to ensure they did not stray out of the wards. Once started the sprints continued, until the endurance race was just half a mile from the end, when once again they were paused to make room for it.

Another popular event, which was also much to Ulf and Eric's pleasure, was Muggle duelling, one on one, using shields and swords. The six duelling areas were marked with branches of willow, in which two participants would fight each other, the winner moving forward to the next. Once the combatants entered the ring, they fought until one was declared the winner either by forcing their opponent to yield, drawing blood, or by forcing the other to either fall or step outside the marked area. Ulf and Eric watched with pride as each competitor performed well whether they won or last their bout, a testament to their teaching. As the heats were concluded and the number of rings needed for this competition reduced, the wrestling tournament began in the vacated combat areas, another skill the two Muggles taught, along with leg wrestling, which would start after lunch.

Across the grounds Tigelwotta was overseeing the axe throwing competition, the competitors stood at a distance of twenty feet in front of one of a row of targets which were marked on the sawn sections of log some three feet in diameter. Each competitor would throw three axes in heats of thirty people, once the axes had been thrown Tigelwotta would tot up each score, depending on where the axe stuck in the target, if it had missed then that axe would not count. Once that was done, he would allow the next contestants to retrieve the weapons. The axes used were thrown two handed over head with quite some force, the targets were arranged backing onto the castle wall in order to stop any strays that missed the targets, it was a popular event, so had needed to be held in rounds of thirty student, the top five going through to the next round. Once the champion was discovered, the targets were changed and the archery competition began, using a similar format.

By lunch time, all the running events had been completed, as had the Hnefatafl, Muggle duelling, Wrestling, and Axe throwing tournaments, so Orin, Ulf and Erik retired into the Lodge to eat while the rest went into the Great Hall.

"Young Toki did well in the running and Axe throw Orin, he's a good lad that." Eric observed as they helped themselves to the stew in the pot over the fire and grabbed a hunk of bread before sitting at the table with spoon and knife to eat.

Orin grunted his acknowledgement as he sat, then added. " Aye he's a good lad, I hear you dissuaded him from the Muggle duelling though, he was disappointed about that."

Erik nodded. "He's good Orin, for his age and size, just needs to bulk out more to have stood a chance, I didn't want him disheartened, he has too much talent for that. I hear he practises with Utred too, but still he needs more meat on him, it'll happen as he grows, he won the axe throw though, that's two for Godric's house, with the Muggle duel thanks to Guthred."

"The lad from Salazar's house won the Hnefatafl though and Helga's students won the sprints up to three hundred paces and the endurance race, they are in the lead so far for the house cup." Ulf added.

Erik nodded. "Aye, Salazar's pissed that his lot aren't doing better, he thought they would win the wrestling, especially with that great lunk Ethelwold winning through to the final."

Orin chuckled. "He were twice the size of that young un o' Rowena's, what were his name?"

"Steapa." Ulf replied. "He doesn't look much, but he's a powerful lad that, quick with it. Ethelwold couldn't keep up, Steapa won by tiring him out. Good strategy really, if Ethelwold had got hold of him properly he'd have snapped him in two."

"Well, with that and the win in the four hundred paces, Rowena's lot are level with Godric's at the moment." Orin commented absently "Could be fun this afternoon."

The three men chuckled, knowing that none of the founders could stand losing to the others where their apprentices were concerned and the afternoon was going to bring plenty more events.

In the Great Hall the founders were in slightly heated discussion of the morning's events; Salazar feeling particularly hard done by. The Creaftas were cheerfully encouraging the rivalry, while the rest of the staff were simply grinning over their food, knowing that whilst the contest was on, the four would argue black was white to favour their own. Once the games were done, then they would all praise the winning students as if they were their own, but until then the other teachers would happily leave Utred and his friends to winding up the founders, it was far too entertaining to stop them.

Mostly oblivious to the goings on at the staff table, the students were cheerfully looking forward to the afternoon events, encouraging those who had yet to compete from their own house whilst cheerfully insulting those from the other houses throughout the meal. The atmosphere was of jovial, healthy competition, with banter between the students at a similar level to that of their heads of house, good natured and rowdy, though harmless, house loyalty to the fore. Soon it was time to resume the games, though the founders only noticed when the room went quiet as the last of the students and other staff had left the room, they hurried to catch up, much to their own and the rest of the School's laughter.

The first event of the afternoon's competitions was the first of the team events, the tug of war took place across the bottom of the steps up to the entrance, the spectators using them as seating. A pair of ropes enabled the four houses to pull against each other at the same time in parallel, before repeating the process, until they had all pulled against each other, the winner of the most tugs, won the contest.

While the tug of war was going on, preparations for the sailing began, the oars were removed from the two smaller boats and the masts erected ready for each house's three person crew. Once the Tug of war was finished the sailing races started, drawing a crowd fascinated to watch the two boats ploughing through the waters. There were to be two heats, followed by the final, racing round a course, circumnavigating the lake, lots being drawn to decide which of the houses would compete in each heat. Once the heats were done, the swimming race was started to give the sailing crews a break, while on land the leg wrestling contest began. The swimming was a mass race across the lake, with all thirty competitors starting at the same time, each having used an insulation charm on themselves against the cold, such charms could not be used later, on the oar walk, as they would affect the walkers ability to grip on the rounded surface of each oar shaft, use of the charm would prevent the feet being in contact with the wood so would slide off. The swimming race was frenetic, churning up the water of the lake, creating a choppy surface, making it harder for the back markers to progress. It was won and won well by a Slytherin girl, who finished a very good distance ahead of her nearest rival, also a Slytherin, much to the delight of their mentor.

The spear throwing had begun once the archery was complete, new targets erected against the castle wall once more. The distance from which the spears were thrown was greater than the axes had been, even so, it proved to be one of the closest contests of the day, only decided after a number of sudden death rounds between the final two.

The Leg wrestling had not been a long tournament, predictably won by Ethelwold, who was able to use his greater weight to beat all his opposition, he had won the final in the same square where he had lost that morning. With that done a magical shield had been erected next to the lodge, to stop stray spells from leaving the area, while the Wizarding duelling tournament began. Five bouts within the areas marked by the willow branches took place at once, shields between them stopping spells interfering with the matches in the others. The first heats had just been completed when the sailing final started on the lake.

The two boats were very well built and evenly matched, it would be up to the two crews of three to make best use of the wind and conditions in order to win. The finalists were from Hufflepuff and Slytherin, each having won their heats, the course was the same and a crowd had gathered on the shore to watch as the race progressed. The two boats were neck and neck until the final turn where the Hufflepuff's boat managed to steal the wind from the Slytherin's just long enough to gain the advantage and the lead. It was now a straight sprint to the end, the wind filling the square sails and powering the boats to the finish, which the Hufflepuff''s crossed, several lengths ahead of their rivals. The crowd dispersed to watch the other two events whilst the boats were prepared for the rowing races, their masts taken down and stored on frames above the hull, the sails stowed in a box under the stern, then the oars put back in place, four on each side.

There was hardly time to breath before the next event began, with the most team members in each, twenty a side shield walls pushing against each other, trying to overwhelm the other. The team for each house competed in a contest of similar format to the tug of war, but was far noisier as the two walls charged at each other then clashed together, each yelling at the other as part of the intimidation in the effort to burst through. They had no weapons, just the shields and whilst one contest was over quickly as one wall crushed the other in the charge, much to the surprise of both teams. The next battle came down to a long pushing and shoving match, in which even the yelling died to a determined, organise cry of heave from both teams. Eventually the pressure exerted by one overwhelmed their opponent, and they burst through, both teams ending up on the floor. This, along with the duelling and wrestling events, was the contest with the most risk of injury, but had been one that had attracted much enthusiasm.

The Wizarding duelling tournament was steadily progressing, with each heat narrowing down the competitors. This competition had been another popular one, and several rounds would be necessary to narrow the field; many of the matches were short in the early heats as the more skilled defeated their opponent. Other than the stipulation that only non lethal spells could be used, the bouts were unrestricted except by ability. After the initial heats, round two began, further narrowing the field though the matches were generally lasting longer as the combatants were more skilled and more evenly matched.

Over at the cliffs beneath the castle a climbing competition had begun, there were only a few participants, so it was a straight forward race to the top. By the steps a short course was opened with four equally shaped and heavy stones, which were carried it's length, the winner of each heat progressing until only four were left to compete. On the other side of the steps, a weight lifting competition was going on, using increasingly heavy logs, with hollows where metal bars could be added, to increase the weight further.

Elsewhere a series of distance throwing events progressed, starting with large hammers, through rocks thrown from under the chin, to tree trunks and spears, each event starting as the previous one finished.

Meanwhile the four rowing teams, one for each house, began competing in a series of races across the lake. Each crew was made up of nine people, one to each oar, pulling the boat through the water with surprising speed, the ninth steering the boat and encouraging the others. Each team competed against each of the others in turn, the intent being the winner of the event would be the house that won most races. The result was a tie between Slytherin's house with a team of muscular, but heavy seventh years, against the lighter, but physically weaker Ravenclaw team of fifth and sixth year students. A straight sprint race, between the two, rather faster than the previous one they had participated in earlier, saw Slytherin house win, becoming Kings of the lake, having one both boating events. The spear throwing contest drew to a close a few minutes later with a Ravenclaw victory, leaving the duelling as the last event of the inter house competition for the afternoon to finish. As the penultimate event, the last wouldn't start before this one finished, it was going to be watched by the majority of the school, the final was between a Gryffindor girl and a Ravenclaw boy, both very evenly matched.

The bout lasted just over twenty minutes, with both contestants exhausted by the end. The girl from Godric's house persevered and won, after the Ravenclaw miss-aimed due to sheer tiredness, whilst her shot found it's target and his wand left his hand. All those watching loudly cheered the pair, showing their appreciation for their efforts, whilst Helga and Rowena went to check on them as they both lay panting on the ground. A few minutes later both competitors drew themselves slowly to their feet, the Ravenclaw retrieved his wand, and they walked unsteadily towards each other. They met half way and grasped each other, each helping to prop the other up.

"Well done." The boy gasped. "That was a hell of a bout."

She managed a weak smile. "Good fun too, thanks, I really enjoyed it."

The two founders led the pair towards the lodge where Eric and Ulf stood to make room on their bench for the pair to rest whilst they waited for the final event to begin, both Rowena and Helga arrived and supplied the two exhausted students with potions to help them recover.

"You doing this next one?" The Gryffindor asked the Ravenclaw.

He shook his head. "No, thank goodness, I knew the chances were the Duel final would leave me too exhausted for me to do it justice."

"Very wise." She added grinning. "Though it is going to be worth watching from what I hear. Fancy a trip to Hogsmeade tomorrow, Rolf?"

He grinned. "Why not, Sigrid, I think that would be great."

Erik chuckled and shook his, sensing a new romance in the air, he nudged Ulf and whispered. "Another man gone to his doom, she won't let him go now."

"I doubt he wants her too." Ulf chuckled. "Not that he has much of a choice now."

"Remind me why you two aren't married." Helga teased the two men, taking a seat to watch the final event she added. "Must try to find someone for you both though."

The two men looked at each other worried, they knew they were in for some Rowena and Helga match making, the two rarely failed either, they knew there were a trail of couples brought together by the pair,even when the couple in question had not realised they had wanted a partner. The two founders had quite a reputation for bringing people together, it seemed the two Muggles were to be their latest project, which meant that it was likely they would be married by next autumn in all probability.

By the time they had settled, it was dusk, torches were being lit along the shore of the lake and on both sides of the ship, telling all that the much anticipated last event was close to starting. Utred and Godric had repositioned the large warship alongside the bank whilst the duel had taken place, ready for those who were competing in the oar walk to board. Over one hundred of the students, all male, had entered the oar walking contest, as well as a few of the staff, all would need to be aboard the ship for the contest to start. There were so many wanting to take part that the ship would be crowded and at first the oars on both sides of the ship would have to be used. They placed two planks between the ship and shore, allowing the competitors to cross. It took a few minutes for the foolhardy, or brave, depending on your point of view, participants to board, then Salazar undid the stern mooring allowing the back of the ship to swing out into the lake. He then used his wand to control the bow rope, allowing the ship to float back out to deeper water so when competitors fell they would not hit the bottom of the lake, but not so far out that those who did fall could not easily reach the shore. Godric and Utred then dropped anchor stones from the stern and cast spells to hold the ship in place. Whilst Salazar had remained ashore, Godric and Utred were on board to keep some semblance of order to proceedings, at least that was the theory, especially as the two were also going to participate.

Once the ship was fixed in position, Godric ordered. "Stick your oar in." At the top of his voice and the oars were slid into position, twenty on each side.

A hush of anticipation fell over the spectators as they saw Godric and Utred position the first competitors at the stern, the flickering flames illuminating the horizontal oars, appearing like wings held level on either side of the ship. The two Wesele twins waited at the bow to help get the successful contestants aboard again, whilst Tigelwotta and Bleac were each in one of the two smaller boats, ready to pluck any who fell in and could not swim ashore, or get back into the ship, from the water and return them ashore where Rowena, Helga and the Creafta's ladies were waiting to tend to them. The Longship was steady, there were no waves to rock it and the oars were being held firmly in position, when, with a yell, Godric and Utred started the contest. The students leapt one after the other from the undecorated stern to step from oar to oar, which were held horizontally above the water, as fast as they could, until they re-boarded the ship at the stern, or, as many did, they fell into the lake where they either climbed back aboard, swam for it or were pulled out of the water and into the small boats and were thus eliminated from the contest. The moment one completed the run, or fell in, the next was sent to attempt the perilous show of bravado, whoever made the most successful runs would, eventually, win the contest. The spectators cheered and laughed each time a competitor landed in the water and simply cheered a successful run, of course the splash from falling in would wet the wood of the oars nearby, making them slippery for the next competitors attempt. Those who had made their run, or who had got wet, but been dragged back aboard, held the oars steady for those making their run. The activity was as much about trust as strength, speed and balance, which was one reason this event was for individual glory instead of house honours. It encouraged them all to hold the oars steady between their runs, knowing that they would be thankful that others did for them when it was their turn, those who had fallen in were warmed by the torches, so would also be motivated not to let others fall, lest the faller took their place near the warmth.

There was a steady flow of fallers arriving on the shore, where they were met by the Lady Creaftas with drying and warming charms, a few were injured, cut's grazes and bruises, none were more seriously hurt. Helga and Rowena soon saw to the cuts or bruises that had been received, healing them swiftly. Utred and Godric both ran the oars, they were the most successful of the non students at the event, so to give the students a rest they raced each other, until on their third run Godric fell in, whilst Utred leapt back aboard and laughing, levitated the soggy founder back aboard. The spectators were laughing heartily, though none more so than Salazar at the sight of Godric held in mid air, water dripping from him back into the lake. It was after this, at the conclusion of the next round, with the number of competitors having fallen sufficiently that they no longer needed both sets of Oars so not as many students who were still competing to hold the oars for others so they put half of them, the wettest half, onto the smaller boats to be shuttled ashore. Soon there were only three students and Utred left,although he was the last staff member left, so the champion of them, it was still possible for him to win overall. As the winner of the staff competition, Utred ran first, Godric did his best to distract Utred, without any success, as the young Lord made two more successful runs, as did the three students. On what was Utred's Tenth run of the day, Godric had grown tired of attempting to distract him and decided something more decisive was needed, unknown to his apprentice now colleague, the Founder replaced a student who had been holding an oar. Carefully watching as Utred began his run and drew closer, he grinned widely as his plan came together, he dipped the long piece of wood slightly just as Utred placed his foot at the other end, then let go. Unbalanced by the unexpected change to the height of the oar before he had stepped on it and the lack of resistance as his momentum, essential to make the walk, meant that he put his full weight on it, Utred plunged head long into the freezing water of the lake. As Utred's foot had landed on the Oar, Godric had thrown himself back off the bench to avoid the handle end as it flew upwards with force, to slam violently upright against the inside of the hull with a resounding thwack, vibrating against the side of the hull for a moment before it then fell back onto the bench with an equally loud thud. The founder quickly stood and looked over the side and burst out laughing at the spluttering Utred who had just resurfaced from being dunked so unceremoniously and helplessly into the frigid waters of the lake. The laughter of those watching resounded over the waters to the ship, Godric leaning on the side of the ship to keep upright, his legs weak with his laughter. The young Lord responded to his mentor, by calling into question his parentage and sexual prowess, along with numerous other insults and promises of revenge, even as he was hauled back aboard the ship, all the time grinning at his mentor.

All who witnessed it sighed through the remnants of their laughter, they knew another prank war was probably imminent, the next few day's would be interesting, even amusing, so long as it didn't affect them. Prank wars between Godric and Utred, or Godric and Salazar often managed to gather collateral victims amongst others who just happened to be in the vicinity at the wrong time. However the truth was such periods of pranking conflicts were extraordinarily creative, as such they were both looked forward to and dreaded in equal measure and all knew better than to get involved. They had become so regular that they were now seen simply as part of school life and all knew that the moment there was a sign of real trouble threatening the school, village, anyone in them or even Witches and Wizards elsewhere, then the pranks would stop and serious business was resumed with just as much conviction and dedication as were the pranks themselves.

It was only a few more runs before the final three students were whittled down to one after that, drawing the official competitions to a close. The events of the tournament had lasted throughout the day, all being completed in good time for a celebratory and suitably raucous feast in the evening. The food was, as usual, consumed at a reasonable speed and was followed by the prize giving. All winners were cheered by everyone, regardless of house, as they were called to the front to receive their prize from their head of house. The time for competition was over for today at least, the winners had won fairly, so there was little point ignoring that, now they were simply recognising the achievement of the victors. Some of the prizes were appropriate, a sword was given to the Muggle duelling champion for example, others bore no resemblance to the event won. The loudest cheer went to young Toki, surprise winner of the oar walking, he had completed a total of twelve runs without falling in, to beat off the opposition who had been left after Utred had been dunked by Godric. The run following had seen the first of the three remaining fall in, the next run his final competitor had slipped, both unaided, leaving Toki standing alone on the bow platform having completed his runs. They all knew that for the last award the founders had provided a large gold and silver cup to be presented to the winning house, before the events of the evening would be concluded.

Utred brought the cup forward and placed it in front of the founders then turned to the students and raised his arms to request silence in the hall, which he soon got.

"This cup, a trophy provided by the four founders, is for the house with the most victories in the games we held today. It is to be known as the house cup and will, in future, be given to the house that achieves the most during the entire year in all activities, academic, sporting or otherwise. So, once awarded, it will be kept in the head of the winning house's office until it is awarded again one year hence, when they will pass it to the winner for that year. However, as any of the four founders could have won it and two of them couldn't agree which of them was to award it for the first time, it has fallen to me by agreement of them all, which I believe may be a first, to present it." He paused as the students laughed, knowing it was Godric and Salazar who had argued, while Rowena with Helga who had put Utred up to the joke on the two of them and that Utred had pranked all four.

Once the laughter subsided, Utred announced. "It gives me great pleasure, though not as much as it would have if Gryffindor had won, to present the house cup to the first winner, Hufflepuff."

That house's students erupted into cheers and hollering in glee, Utred handed the cup to Helga, who held it aloft for all to see. The students of the other houses banged their horn mugs on the table, in congratulating the victors, all secretly vowing to practise, so they could do better in the tournament next year.

She and Utred returned to their seats while the students settled back into their relaxed chatter as did all the students, none wanting to leave although the formalities and meal were over. The chatter rose in the Hall as the students began discussing whatever subject they wished, many moving to sit with friends in other houses, including Sigrid, who went to sit with Rolf, who put his arm round her as she sat and rested her head on his shoulder.

Utred reflected on the latest reports Tigelwotta and Hilde had brought from Northumbria a few days earlier. They regularly visited the region to discover what Styr was up to, they had even managed to cultivate a contact within his council, and were due to return the next day. Utred was now co-ordinating the training of villagers in Muggle style defence and battle techniques, they were all a part of the entire community's defence, along with the students. Utred had also visited Godric's Hollow with the founder who it was named for, he had discovered a few there who were good swordsmen, both magical and Muggle, they had agreed to train others there. Many of the women of both communities were also trained. Utred knew from experience with the Creaftas ladies that they could be at least as formidable as the men when needed.

Utred's thoughts and all the conversations going on in the Hall were interrupted by Leoforwic bursting through the door and rushing up the Hall. Everyone knew that he, his brother Egil, and Skorri had been on guard duty at the gate since the tournament had finished. Leoforwic glanced along the top table as Godric stood, noticing he would pass Utred on his way to Godric, he made a beeline to his friend.

"Problem?" The young Lord asked his friend.

"You could say that, but both of you two Lords need to know about it together, bloody quickly as well. Come with me, my Lord." Leoforwic replied, grave faced and continued to head towards Godric.

Knowing that Leoforwic only ever addressed him by his title to convey the seriousness or urgency of a situation, Utred had no hesitation in quickly replacing his mug on the table, rising from his seat and hurrying after his fellow Creafta, to their mentor, who was standing next to his seat, near the centre of the top table with the other three founders alongside him, still seated as was proper. Everyone in the hall had fallen silent, watching the pair closely as they reached Godric, knowing that something serious must be happening, dreading what it may be.

"What is it Leoforwic?" Godric asked concerned at his hurried entry and insistence that Utred be with him, the necessity for both the Lords resident to be there indicated it was not trivial.

Every individual in the hall was now listening intently.

Leoforwic took a deep breath and urgently told them. "I am sorry my Lords, but you will have to abandon the celebrations. There are men at the gate, armed to the teeth demanding to be let in, they are led by the King."

* * *

 **Authors Notes:**

Hope you enjoyed this one, I look forward to reading your reviews, if you are kind enough to leave one. Many thanks to those who have reviewed so far, I think I replied to you all via the messaging system on this site.

Until next time.

Tgfoy

* * *

 **Historical Notes:**

The games used in the tournament are known to have been part of life 1000 years ago, mostly from the surviving writings and art (carvings). I have however changed the formats in which they have been used in order to create a Tournament. I am aware of no known records of such an event, however it is at least in the spirit of the period where men especially are known to have duelled for honour and competed for Kudos, and money. Spectators would bet on the competition, gambling seems to have been a very popular activity. The Oar walk I have adapted into a competition, that said an Oar walk would be used to show off the balance and skill of the warriors aboard a vessel.

The famous heads on longboats were removable, it is thought they were displayed to scare the spirits of lands they were about to raid, but hidden in the hull when their intent was peaceful.

The Scandinavian ships were very advanced compared to their Saxon counterparts, wide bodied with a sharp keel, they sat low in the water and were fast vessels. They could be sailed, or if there was no wind rowed at great speeds. Navigation seems to have been by the stars, a rudimentary compass made of Lode stone and, when crossing seas, a system using a bucket of water, a disk of wood with a peg in the middle and a natural crystal commonly called Icelandic Spar to focus the sun at mid Day, which could determine the latitude they wished to follow. Quite simply, at midday on the day they set off, they focused the sun on the peg to create a shadow and marked it's length. Each day of the voyage at Midday they repeated the process, adjusting course to ensure the shadow was the same length. Of course, they would also simply follow coastlines when they were visible.


	13. Return and Restitution

Disclaimer: As always, anything you recognise from the novels by J.K. Rowling belongs to her and I make no claim on it, anything else however is from my weird imagination.

* * *

 **Chapter 13**

 **Return and Restitution**

 **10** **th** **Century**

"The King?" Godric asked in shocked disbelief. "Here already, with armed men? He can't have found us yet and even if he did, how would he get his men here so soon? What are you talking about Leoforwic, you need your twin, this is the lamest prank you've ever tried to get away with, Tigelwotta's report said nothing about the Usurper being on his way."

Leoforwic rolled his eyes. "Not that King, have you gone daft or something, being a founder affected your brain, or perhaps water on the brain after being dunked in the Lake." He teased. "If it were that King I would hardly have simply left him and his men at the gate unguarded or alive for that matter, now would I? No, if it had been that piece of Weasel shit, I would have sent the alarm, got you all to come to me to deal with him in imaginative and entertaining ways, if you were lucky and I decided to share the fun that is. There is more than one of the jumped up Royal pains in the arse, who call themselves King on these islands you know. Anyway the King of Alba's the one who is here, not the usurper, Wessex or the ones from anywhere else that no one has ever heard of or would want to go to if they had. This one's a good one though, you know, the one you and Salazar got drunk with and collapsed in a six arm, six legged heap in the entrance hall six months ago. The one of the three of you that was still standing, just, after Helga and Rowena finished with you when they found you, while you two could no longer get your legs to work, he actually managed to get up well enough to fall down the dungeon steps. Actually, now I come to think about it, the least of your problems at the time were your legs when Helga and Rowena arrived on the scene." He grinned.

The students and staff chuckled at the memory as the two male founders tried to look innocent, though they both quaked at the memory of what the women had done when they had found them.

Utred grinned "He must have heard about the tournament, bit late in the day for duelling, if he's wanting me to beat him again."

"You always were a cheeky little piece of worm vomit, Utred, Lord of Tang." A great booming voice rang mockingly across the hall as a large man appeared through the door. "Besides I beat you once." He added jovially, striding between the tables.

Not missing a beat, Leoforwic grinned announced. "My apologies my Lords, my previous report was a little late it would seem, the King is not at the gate, the oversized, loud, ginger bearded drunkard who cheated to beat a then fourteen year old at duelling once, having lost to him on every previous occasion, has shown himself at the door over there and would appear to be practising imaginative insults."

The King was a startling sight to those who did not know him, he was a giant of a man, in all senses of the term. He was physically big, his fine clothes enhancing his fierce appearance, though not as much as his hair. His face and hands were covered in a shock of bright orange hair, that put the Wesele families auburn into the shade, he had two braids dangling either side of his face and part of his beard was also braided, though with several silver beads threaded onto it. However, even with the plaits, he was very proud that the combination of his hair and beard gave the appearance that his head was a large fiery ball with eyes and teeth piercing it. He was an ebullient man with a naturally loud voice that even unmagnified, filled any room, even the Great Hall. His appearance had struck fear in many an enemy, he stood out on any battlefield, he could be heard above all in an advancing shield wall, but those who knew him, knew he was in fact more likely to get you drunk than spear you, so long as you didn't betray him. He was generous to his lords, who loved him, feared by his enemies, who were now few thanks to his ferocity in battle and he was a prankster extraordinaire, rivalling any one of the Creaftas in creativity given the opportunity. His personality was as large as his physique and voice, his friendship unshakable once gained, as firm and unshakable as his ferocity in the battlefield where he had often led his men, ploughing through the enemy mercilessly, sending blood, bodies, filth and entrails to spread over the ground in his wake.

Utred and Godric smiled widely, relieved after their initial panic, as they approached the man that had become a good friend of theirs and the school. The Gryffindor lands were, by oath of this King's grandfather, separate from his Kingdom and not part of the royal jurisdiction, meaning any resident Lords here were considered his equal within the boundaries, save that custom dictated the other Lords gave way to the land owner himself. That said, Godric had for a long time been a friend of this King's, Utred had also become close to the man, who liked nothing more than taking Godric's place against the young Lord in the weekly sparring match whenever he visited. It had been a few years since the King had managed his one win against the young Lord, who had never used anything but, Muggle techniques in the duels against him. The King still claimed moving the branches with his foot so that Utred stepped outside the now smaller square was tactics and not really cheating, though always with a sly grin, a twinkle in his eye and not near as forcefully as he would if he knew he truthfully had the right of it.

"Lord Godric, Lord Utred, my two favourite Wizarding Lords." The King laughed, embraced both men in turn in welcome.

The other three founders had followed the two Lords, although they did not hold titles, they too were held in the same esteem by the ebullient monarch, but as protocol dictated, they waited the Lords greeting before their own.

"Which could have nothing at all to do with the fact that these two are the only two true Lords, who are also wizards, that you have met at all is it?" Salazar quipped.

"Salazar you spoil all my fun." The King retorted then greeted the man, followed by Rowena and Helga. "Ah as always you two brighten my day with your wondrous beauty forcing the cloud Sal brings over my jokes away, you two ladies make me yearn for the time I was younger and could have attracted you to my side. You can trust that I know about a ladies beauty as well you know, I once had a servant to serve me when I first became King a real stunner, I might have married her, she was so beautiful. I could have cried when she died, she came to a tragic end, all through simply drinking milk."

All those in the hall groaned, they knew they were being set up, though not how.

The King grinned broadly. "I had warned her not to, we all know milk is for making cheese, I told her it was safer to drink beer or wine. She didn't listen though and died, it wasn't even sour milk either."

Deciding to play along and bring the joke to an end, knowing the King would pout for hours if he didn't get chance to deliver the punch line, Godric sighed and asked what the King clearly wanted someone to. "Really Majesty, so how did she die?"

The King grinned happily that someone had asked. "The cow fell on her head while she drank." He told them then burst into enthusiastic laughter.

The founders chuckled politely, while the students groaned, there were thuds as some who had heard his jokes before hit their heads on the tables in front of them, while the King calmed. Godric then addressed the King formally, as protocol dictated.

"Majesty, I welcome you once again to our humble home and bid you sit with us. You and your entourage are welcome at our table, although we have already eaten we shall bring food and drink for you."

The King sighed, he hated the formality intruding, but knew it was necessary, especially in public and it had it's uses. Once the formalities were over with, they would be free to relax as friends, perhaps get drunk, which was what he was looking forward to.

"My thanks Lord Gryffindor, it is, as always, my pleasure to visit your magnificent home. I thank you for your generous hospitality. However, much as I wish it were otherwise, on this occasion I find myself here on matters of state and require your council, along with that of the Lord of Tang as well as those of your advisers both in your castle and in the village on these your Scottish lands who you would want with us."

Utred stiffened, the King had rarely arrived primarily to gain council. On each of the few other occasions he had, it had ended with a fight with the Northumbrians on Scottish lands. Utred and the Creaftas had been on a few such expeditions for the King in the past, perhaps they were to be called on again, at least that was how Utred read the King's statement.

Godric shared Utred's concern, but saw something else in the King's eyes, a deeper worry than usual; something had happened, something that had the formidable man extremely worried. "My King what has happened?"

"That slime ridden worm who some know as King Styr, but we all know is the leavings of a slug, usurping flea reject, is gathering an invasion force at Dunholm. They are planning on marching this way soon, he is using the movement of their saint, the one they put in a crypt at Onripum for a while, as the cover for invasion so our information tells us. He is gathering the Northumbrian Fyrd to take Scotland, he probably thinks it will mean that church of theirs will give him Englaland if he succeeds. He isn't intelligent enough to work out he has no chance no matter what he does, but that means we need your help." The King told them."Not just the Creaftas this time though, good as they are, we need all you can muster, same with all in our lands, I hope that the Picts will help too."

"Tigelwotta!" Godric called.

"I shall leave and see what I can discover immediately, Grandfather." The Creafta responded, knowing up to date information would be needed, quickly.

"Go careful my Grandson, be swift and unseen, we have kept you here too long it would seem, Hilde go with him as usual my dear." Godric suddenly looked old, sending his grandson back into a dangerous situation, suddenly made more perilous by the actions of another.

The Creafta and his lady nodded reassuringly to him, they both knew the founder dreaded telling his daughter should anything happen to either of them. They didn't wait for a response, they turned and left to begin their task in the midst of the enemy. The moment the door closed behind them, Godric turned to the King. "Where is our Fyrd going to gather, your Majesty?"

"Here, my Lord Gryffindor, I can think of nowhere better, I know strictly I should have asked first, but I have sent instructions with my messengers for them to come here. Not all in these lands are sworn to us, but as the threat affects us all, they have been called as well, they are loyal to the country even if not always to me, they will come. Your lands are neutral ground, they all know I hold no more sway here than they do, I needed somewhere they would feel free. They also know you, Utred, and the Creaftas, they know you will welcome all without fear or favour, so long as they do not threaten any here, they respect that and fear your special talent, though they each have their own witch or wizard I would think. This is your land, so they can speak freely here without risk of offending me, or at least suffering the consequences of doing so. That is what I believe will be needed in my council now, not all are as frank with me as you are by habit my friend, some would say what they believe would appease me or keep me happy if we were any where of mine."

Salazar observed the King thoughtfully, but said nothing, remaining deep in thought as he contemplated the implications of what King Constantine said. A neutral venue to assemble the Fyrd and hold a Kings council, had a not very well hidden implication. Contrary to the commonly held belief south of the wall, the Scots were not a disorganised rabble at all, they revelled in that mistaken view, even encouraging it amongst their enemies though. It gave them a large advantage in their raids and defence of their lands if their enemies believed them to be merely a mob. King Constantine the second was a man who usually knew when to fight and when to wait, he was a sharp strategic thinker. He and his people did not shy from a fight, but they would wait, lulling the enemy into false sense of security, even into traps if that would suit their cause to best advantage. The skill of the Scots lay in their ability to guide and bring enemy forces into areas of the country where they could defeat them, choosing where the battle would take place, manipulating their opponents without it being noticed by them until it was too late. Their knowledge of the lands, strategic points, hazards and natural traps was unsurpassed and leading to many a victory in the face of overwhelming odds in terms of numbers. They were, of course, well versed in the battle methods of the Saxons and Norse, assimilating them, adapting the methods when needed, into their own raiding tactics, making an effective guerilla form of battle that was not easy for an enemy to deal with. It had been an effective tactic for centuries, its very nature making it unpredictable and effective, even against vastly superior forces.

The Romans had ended up having to build two walls in different locations to mark the Northern boundary of their empire, entirely because they could not cope with the tactics of the people of these lands, so the mighty army had been driven back,unable to adapt. The short lived more northern wall, built on the order of the Emperor Antonine had been abandoned by their army as they retreated, withdrawing from the lands they had claimed from the natives. They moved inexorably Southwards until the Scots ceased harassing them at where the so called barbarians deemed their boundary was,meaning they were someone else's problem to deal with, to where the Emperor Hadrian had ordered a stone boundary wall built, complete with forts every mile along it's length. The wall symbolised the end of Roman conquest,where they ceased trying to conquer the Scots and started trading with them instead. The people of this land had not just stopped the strongest empire of it's time, but forced it to retreat, according to all that was known, yet still those south of the wall continued to under estimate those north of it.

Northumbria was, of course, the old enemy of the Scots, the boundary between the two constantly shifting, until Hadrian's Wall had been built. That stability dividing the old adversaries had gone once those armies had been recalled to Rome, resuming after a gap of a few centuries, according to Merlin, as if there had been no gap. Hostilities continued to test the tentative peace, initially in the form of battles over the rights to recover the stone used in the wall for re-use, the feuding eventually returning to raids. The remaining stone in the wall only occasionally being taken by the Scots, whilst the material from the forts on the Northumbrian side was being heavily plundered, the violence between them settling to an uneasy stalemate of skirmishes and small raids, only once the Norse gained alliance with the Scots and conquered the Northumbrian Saxons.

More recently some of the Norse had given occasional shows of strength, testing along he shallower cliffs in parts of the coastline to see if it was simpler to conquer by conquest, or alternatively befriend the Scots. They had soon settled into trading and in common with Ireland and Northumbria had become allies. The Scots and Northmen had, now, long enjoyed an alliance of trade, the Norse of Northumbria had gladly traded with them, as had the Romans before and a peace existed between them. It was the Saxon Northumbrians who were not willing to trade peacefully with the Scots whether they were Christian or not and plenty north of the wall were, although they were not as intolerant of others. The Saxons rarely chose to trade with those North of the wall, or others who they considered as weak or non Christians for that matter, only trading with the Norse through necessity of keeping on the right side of their rulers and those with gold of course. However, since Styr had come to power, trade outside Jorvik with other than a neighbour or in the towns and ports, was growing rarer, it only continued in the city because the church always wanted to add to it's wealth. The Scots and Northumbrians raided each other in the absence of cross boundary trade, occasionally, a raid would grow to become a skirmish. Extremely rarely did those skirmishes develop into a full blown battle and then only when the Saxons attempted to invade the lowlands between the two Roman walls, they never got far. On those occasions, it was the Northumbrian's Lord at Dunholm who would order his men to encroach into the lands firmly held by the Scots, usually these raids were so far apart the result of the last had been forgotten, but it was always the same. Not one such incursion had ever returned to the fortress town with so much as a blade of grass from North of the wall, in fact, only one soldier had returned from each of them, a single man, usually the youngest, to tell the tale. Not that all the others were killed, though many were, such is the nature of battle. Some had decided to join the communities in Scotland as free men. Though they could not join the small raiding parties, they did strengthen the defence of where they now lived with their new Scottish wives, children and land. Others, when given choice, decided they would reject the offer and those who gave it, they became slaves, so long as they were useful. An uneasy truce was the usual state between the two countries, broken only by small scale raids, creating a stalemate across the wall, a stalemate it seemed that King Styr the usurper, was about to break with a vengeance.

All of this Salazar considered in a few moments, measuring his knowledge of the historical and current feuding against the need to unite against an invasion, he came to a realisation. King Constantine intended to lead his former apprentice and the Northumbrian Fyrd to their doom, somewhere close to here, there was no other strategic reason for him to bring more than the council chiefs here. The cunning founder looked over to Gryffindor; he knew that his friend could be just as guileful, when the need arose. Their eyes met, Godric nodding to him, they had both reached the same conclusion, both in no more than a couple of seconds.

Knowing this Godric spoke to the King. "Yes, I should think neutral ground would be useful to you, Not just that, but of course, this is a good place to hold your army if you want to draw the enemy here too isn't it?" He grinned slyly.

Salazar nearly laughed out loud as the King's face first fell, became momentarily thoughtful, then he burst out laughing. "Damn it Godric! You just lost me a gold arm band, I thought it would be Salazar who would draw that conclusion first of the two of you, not you."

Godric joined in the laughter. "Oh, he got there too from the look on his face, at least. You know I thought it was the Saxon Christians who were daft enough to take a bet like that, not you. Although, you are named for one of there Roman heroes aren't you?"

Constantine was the second Scottish King to hold the name and a believer in the old Gods. It was known he shared the name with the Roman emperor who was first to embrace Christianity, which he would not do. "Yes, as you delight in reminding this old pagan. He was their first Christian Emperor as you well know, giving me the name was my grandfathers idea of a joke, or so I like to believe anyway." The King growled, though not too angrily.

"Merlin always said he was declared Emperor in Styr's capital you know." Helga commented.

Constantine grunted, knowing they were deliberately teasing him, he decided to change the subject then looked round him. "Have you lot had a feast? Any left, I've not eaten since my last meal you know." A twinkle returning to his eye and grin on his lips, the others rolling their eyes and grinning.

In that instant a plate of food appeared on the table next to him, the King sat and enthusiastically tucked in, while Godric dismissed the students, the staff resuming sears to hear what would be agreed.

It didn't take too long before Godric permitted the King to set up camp on the grass between the castle and lake shore. There would be just enough space for the chiefs and their entourages there, but not the Fyrd. Godric had insisted that the large number of men and hangers on would be disruptive, the school and its protection was to be his first priority. Instead, he offered an adequate area on the far side of Hogsmeade for the fighting men to assemble.

The next day saw Tigelwotta and Hilde return to the castle, their source had confirmed the rumours that the King had brought the night before. Styr was, it seemed, intent on war and had embarrassed the Archbishop in council to bring him into line and support the invasion. Constantine summoned the rest of his household, who were waiting in a settlement a day's march away with the local chief. Utred had agreed to go to guide them, Frayja, Tigelwotta and the Wesele twins would accompany him at first light, using the rest of this day to help the King's guard set up camp on the grounds ready to receive them.

The following afternoon Utred, dressed in full finery, sword at his side, helmet on his belt, together with his similarly clad entourage of his lady, the twins, and Tigelwotta, rode Sliepnir into the town, carrying the summons document. The twins carried Utred's banner along side the Kings, while Godrics was carried by his grandson. They had travelled at speed, the King amazed at the beasts as they ridden them from the grounds of Hogwarts. They followed the road, the men in glittering chain mail, wearing shining helmets, all wore their finest cloak, making an impressive, intimidating sight, those they passed falling to their knees in supplication when they saw what appeared to be powerful war Lords and the banners they travelled under. No one wanted to risk offending such important people as they passed by, they recognised the banners, at least the King's, so knew they were not enemy, but still they were frightening as the riders slowed their pace to pass through settlements, they did not want to run over anyone who may be in the road between the houses at the time.

Even so, thanks to the eight legged mounts, they arrived at the village they had been instructed to go to soon after the middle of the afternoon. They found the camp in fields alongside it, but the guards were on the road to the settlement, the only way in. The King's colours were recognised alongside the others, so they were only briefly held at the gates as their identity as friends was confirmed, this also allowed a message to be sent to the hall that they had arrived. They entered the village as the local chief emerged from his hall, Utred recognised the man, they had fought side by side near Hadrian's wall against a small band of Northumbrians last summer. He had not, however, visited this village before and took careful note of their surroundings planning escape should the unlikely need arise. The Chief greeted them warmly as they dismounted, his eyes growing wide as he noticed how many legs his visitors mounts had. Utred distracted the man by removing his sword, which he left with Tigelwotta for safe keeping, whilst he entered the hall accompanied by Frayja, leaving his friends to guard the entrance, as his host's guards eyed them suspiciously, as all loyal men should, until their Chief or Lord told them not to, at least.

The Chief introduced him to the captain of the King's household, who immediately issued the order for them to prepare to move. Whilst they awaited the completion of preparations, he summoned refreshments. A woman entered, carrying horns of ale; she looked vaguely familiar to Utred, but she showed no sign of knowing him. It was as she returned with wine for Frayja, and as the captain drained his horn, that he realised who she looked like; but it was impossible, he was sure; the one this woman resembled had died at Tang.

"Fryga, more beer." The Captain demanded

"Fryga!" Utred exclaimed, in shocked surprise.

"Yes, my Lord?" The woman replied expecting an order, she had yet to look at him properly.

Utred slowly stood. "It can't be!" He stared wide eyed at her.

"I'm sorry my Lord, do you know me?" She asked, then looked up, puzzled, then dropped the near empty jug, which smashed on the floor, her hand leapt to her mouth and eyes widened in shock, as if seeing a ghost.

The captain looked up. "Lord Utred, we rescued her with her eldest son some years ago. They had been captured from their home; she was heavily pregnant. They had survived the slave ship that carried them when it was wrecked and broke up on our coast, the King gave them sanctuary along with the other survivors, she has been with us ever since."

"How can it be." She gasped, recovering enough to speak. "You look so much like the man I served at Tang, I thought you were him when I looked at you, but he and his family were murdered when his hall there was burnt down, besides you are younger than he was."

"Yes, Fryga, I know about Tang." Utred replied gently, knowing who she was. "The man you served, was my father, I remember you." He took his fathers ring, still hung round his neck, from inside his tunic and showed it to her.

Her eyes widened. "Utred?" She asked in disbelief.

He nodded affirmation.

"Little Utred?" She asked, holding her hand at about the height he had been the last time she had seen him.

"Yes, Fryga, it's me." He grinned, wondering how to convince her, then he remembered. "The last day you saw me, the day I went hunting, my opponents at battle practice got frozen stiff like the Roman statues in Jorvik, do you remember?"

Her eyes widened as she dumbly nodded, then gasped and fell to her knees "My Lord, it's really you. Thank the Gods, you are alive, I never thought I would see you again."

"Get up Fryga." Utred smiled, gently lifting her back to her feet. "I never thought to see you again either, not after Tang. So, do you serve the King now? I have not seen you at his palace when I've been there?" Utred was delighted to see the woman again, he had been very fond of her as he had grown in his father's halls at Tang and Thwing.

She looked at him, unable to stop the tears as she grinned at seeing him."I am not sworn to him my Lord, nor to anyone else here, not as a servant anyway, but just as a citizen like any other. At the palace I served his wife, raising his children, along side my sons, in a part of the palace you would not have visited, before she died last winter." She replied

"Your child survived? Last time I saw you, you were pregnant." Utred grinned, genuinely pleased.

"He did my lord, he knows of both his father and your father; he is here with me, his brother too. We thought you were lost, like your parents in the hall, when you didn't return. I was taken as a slave, being pregnant they could get more for me than the others, carrying a second future slave as I was. They let me keep young Hodda too, three slaves in one go. Only old Orin was spared amongst the men and we women as slaves. We were all sent on different ships from the city, I guess all the others went into slavery as we were, until fate saved us. All those who could be a threat, were too ill or old to be valuable, were slaughtered, including the poor children who were not yet weaned or could not yet walk."

Utred sighed sadly. "Orin found us, he Ulf and Erik are all that is left of my father's men. We were found by a friend, a fellow Lord. He brought us to his lands here in the land of the Scots. I apprenticed to him, Fryga; he knew Orin's family, you will meet them soon. Godric and I are now equals, the only two true Lords north of the wall it seems. We both have sworn men, some of mine are here, outside, with my Lady and I."

He took Fryga and introduced her formally to Frayja, who invited the woman to sit with them as a member of Utred's Household. The captain looked shocked that the invitation was made to one of who he considered to be of the Kings household, but dare not object to his rulers messenger inviting the woman to sit with them. Especially as he knew that she was not a slave or sworn to him, she was free as she claimed and Utred out ranked him in all respects, which meant so did the Lady Frayja.

Fryga too was surprised, but cautiously sat next to her, symbolically accepting Utred as her Lord. Utred then formally delivered the King's message to the chief and Captain, reading from the rolled parchment. "By the command of King Constantine the second I, Lord Utred of Tang, with my entourage are ordered to lead and guide you to the place he has chosen for his Council as well as the place where he will gather the Fyrd to defend our country from invaders. You are ordered to co-operate with the King's envoy, Utred the Lord of Tang and his companions, who are ordered to ensure you, the men you command and all with you reach the chosen place as expeditiously as they are able. Further, you are ordered to gather your men and present them to the command of the King. You yourself and such senior advisers as you deem necessary for you to effectively Council us, are to present yourselves to us at this time. Signed by King Constantine the second, King of the lands of the Scots." Utred re-rolled the scroll and handed it to the chief.

The Captain simply nodded in response to the orders, but the Chief accepted the scroll, as was required, then spoke evenly. "Very well Lord Utred, my men shall march with you as well, excepting a few required to defend these lands, who shall remain until summoned to the battlefield."

Utred acknowledged him. "Good, we must leave in one hour if we are to reach the camp on Lord Gryffindor's land by night fall."

The Captain looked wide eyed he had visited Hogsmeade with the King before and knew how far they had to travel. "Sunset is but, two hours away Lord Utred. We have no horse here, the men must walk, they will not march far before they need to make camp. If we set off at daybreak tomorrow, we should just reach there by nightfall tomorrow."

Utred grinned "We have our ways, but your men will be in the camp there tonight. Ensure they have what they need for shelter, and war, ready within the hour. I mean to fulfil our order from the King, we have the means to ensure you arrive with time for the men to set camp before sunset at the place prescribed."

The Captain snorted, unaware of the true abilities of those at Hogsmeade, the idea of reaching anywhere meaningful by sunset and having time to make camp by nightfall was preposterous, even for this young Lord, who seemed to somehow achieve the impossible in battle. Still, he did not argue, but dubiously issued the necessary orders.

The sun was low in the sky, though still an hour from setting, as Utred led the King's household and the village's men through Hogsmeade, and up to the school. The few horses they had with them had not reacted well to the effects of the massive Portkey Utred had created, just as his mentor had all those years ago to bring him to the school. Utred and his friends were mounted on the Sliepnir, who were unaffected by magical transport. The captain, having realised what Utred was shortly after the Portkey had activated, was still somewhat sulkily muttering about show-off wizards when in earshot. The grin on his face betrayed his true feelings on the matter though, he was pleased to have been proved wrong on this occasion. Fryga walked beside Utred, her hand resting on the Sliepnir's shoulder, as they made their way through the village. Her sons following, the youngest somewhat in awe that his mum knew anyone who could do magic and rode an eight legged horse, the oldest, Hodda now almost of age,walked alongside his brother, just as impressed, though like Utred who remembered him as a toddler back at Tang, the boy recalled the Lord as a child, though not much about him.

As they passed the wand makers house Utred called "Orin, Ulf, Erik stop drinking, come and see who I have found." Grinning, he set off again, before any inside the house could reply or appear in the street.

A few seconds later, three figures quickly emerged, all quickly fitting their swords to their sides, looking round urgently. Erik saw the back of Utred on his mount, a woman walking at his side, being followed by two children. Puzzled, he glanced up as Tigelwotta passed.

"What's going on?" He asked.

Tigelwotta laughed. "Better follow us, we need to take this lot to the King's camp."

Orin grunted. "That's whose tents those are is it? He wanting more duelling practice, or has he decided the smell from Northumbria is too strong at his palace?"

The three men began to walk alongside the mounted Creafta.

"Hmm, I suppose he is a bit close to the wall at home." Erik pondered, then winked. "After all the palace is almost one hundred and fifty miles from it."

"Never mind all that, who is that walking next to Utred?" Ulf asked, cautious for his Lord's safety as always.

"Don't really know, we were outside the hall at the time, he told us she served his family at Tang and she had survived her slave ship wrecking on the coast along with the two boys. Seemed very happy to have found her." Leoforwic shrugged. "She's part of the King's entourage."

Erik, Ulf and Orin were puzzled, but knew Utred would not let her near if he didn't trust her, nor would Frayja for that matter. Yet there was this woman walking alongside him, a place of trust, he had clearly taken her under his protection.

The column arrived at the camp, and Constantine came out to greet them.

"Utred you back already?" He boomed, then noticed the woman walking in the place of a personal servant, her sons behind her and gently asked. "Fryga?"

"Yes, Majesty?" She spoke softly.

"I see where you are walking dear one, under the protection of this man, is he the one who was your Master, before we found you, the one who you believed to be dead?"

"No Majesty, this is that man's son, I was in Lord Utred's father's service before his death." She replied, her head bowed.

The King laughed loudly, "I should have guessed. Utred, I am glad she has found you, she told me her story, but nothing about who she was sworn to. She believed she was the only survivor, at last, mystery solved." He turned to Fryga "I am pleased you have graced my household for the last few years, my thanks for your care of my wife and my children. I shall miss your sons too, especially our Hnefatafl games. I wish you both well, though I hope Lord Utred will allow me to continue to see you all. I know he will treat you well." Fryga looked hopefully to Utred.

Utred chuckled and nodded his assent to the Kings request. "I welcome her back to the house she was taken from gladly, my King, She has been sorely missed"

Fryga smiled to him, then turned back to Constantine. "My thanks to you my King, you have always been more than generous to us, I appreciate everything you have done for us." She said.

She then bowed, turned, and took her place beside Utred and Frayja, her sons beside her, happy to be part of the house of the Huntrodds again.

* * *

 **Late 20** **th** **Century**

Hermione was immersing herself in her favourite activity, research. She was assisted in this by her position at the ministry, both as a Ministerial adviser, and within the department where she worked day to day. This afforded her access to volumes of records in the ministry Archive, as well as a wealth of artefacts from families that had died out, or at least had been placed there by the family or heir that had owned them. She was often to be found in the archive researching Wizarding law, as well as discovering what she could to research the history of the Huntrodds. Her mother had told her what she knew of her side of the family, Hermione horrified to realise that her Grandparents would be amongst those souls that would not be at rest according to the information Harry, Ginny and Dumbledore's picture could tell her. She had been very close to her mother's parents, she had loved visiting them and doing things with them, from gardening to visiting places, she had always had fun with them. She had been heart broken when first here Grand father, then a few years later her grandmother had died, both before she had started at Hogwarts or know what the odd things that they had delighted in her doing, really were. The thought they had been unable to rest was heartbreaking to her and fuelled her determination to find out what she needed to do further. Her friends had promised that one of them would check their library for any more information for her next time they could go to their home.

At the moment she was concentrating on finding the exact wording and circumstance of Slytherin's Curse as well as discovering what the steps Gryffindor had taken to mitigate its effects were. Essentially, she was verifying the story Dumbledore and Minerva had told from memory and Harry had found in his library so far. She was also attempting to find out as much as she could about Utred Huntrodds, though records were sparse from that time of course. Very few people could read or write in his time, most records had been created by priests and their had been few of those near Hogwarts at the time she suspected, so there were few records even compared with the few muggle ones that had survived. However he was mentioned several times in the earliest known biographical writing of the founder's lives, it was written over three hundred years after the school was founded, by the two authors, one named Bleac, the other had the name Tigelwotta, names that had stood the test of time, she recognised the ancient origins in the forms of the words and recognised what the modern versions of them were, which made her chuckle. Had the two families been linked for the last Millennia, it certainly seemed likely? The biography itself claimed to expand on a document they had found written in runes, about the events before, during and in the years immediately after the castle was built that had been written just before the last founder had died and referred to another runic work, remembered by Bleac, but lost at the time they wrote their work, supposedly by Utred's wife. It was probably not that accurate, both authors acknowledged that much of what they were recording was merely family stories that had been passed down by word of mouth for generations. She knew that could mean the book was wildly inaccurate, she loved the idea of the story telling tradition, but also knew that meant the story changed a little with each retelling, depending on how well the teller recalled it. What she needed really was a reliable contemporary account, sadly, it seemed that none had survived, if any had truly existed in the first place, which made her task more than difficult. Instead, in the Archives she studied anything and everything that seemed to refer to the founders in the hope of finding something, while at home she turned to tracing as much of the family tree as possible, trying to connect with those buried at Whitby. She knew she had to return to that church yard, but Harry and Ginny had warned her not to go until she knew what she needed to do there, or it could ruin the chances of success for ever.

She sat at the desk in the archives department desk poring over the documents in front of her, her quill tracing over her parchment as she mad copious notes on what she discovered. So busy and intent on her task, she hardly noticed a grand looking owl arrive with a letter, until it landed right next to her. It held its leg out, offering the letter attached there to her, exuding an imperious air as it waited. Hermione took the letter from the owl. "I'm Sorry." She apologised to the bird. "I have nothing to give you with me here, but if you wait I'll go and get some owl treats for you." The owl looked disdainfully at her, as if such things were beneath it's consideration and took off again, almost sedately gliding away.

Hermione shrugged and looked at the envelope, receiving a surprise. The seal of Gringotts bank was fixed in black wax on it, she rarely received a letter from Gringotts and never one with this coloured seal. "That's odd, I thought Gringotts only used red wax seals, maybe that's just on statements and our mortgage letters." She mused to herself, certain it really was a Gringotts seal, she broke it as she usually would and withdrew the parchment from the envelope and read with growing interest.

"Dear Miss Granger,

It has come to our notice that you are the direct descendant of one Utred Huntrodds, Lord of Tang, you are in fact the first descendant of the Lord to be magical in one thousand years. We have also been notified that you have now become betrothed. This all being the case, has caused us to have been instructed to ensure certain items that are in our safe keeping within the bank are passed on to you, has been triggered. Please attend the bank at your earliest convenience, where I shall be pleased to attend you in this matter.

Godroc.

Legacies and Inheritances Manager."

Hermione frowned, confused, what was going on? She knew that Utred had been a Lord, though she didn't know if that title had been in the Magical or non magical sense, or even if there was even a difference at all at that time, nor had she been unable to discover where in Britain Tang even was. She surmised that it might be a place that had changed it's name, as many had, in the intervening time, possibly when the Normans had invaded, maybe later. Whatever the case, she couldn't help but, feel certain that finding wherever it was wouldn't help her discover what she needed, she felt compelled to find out.

She wondered what items had been left in Gringotts care and how had they discovered her lineage when she was just uncovering it herself? Only one way to find out, she quickly put away the books she had been using, sorted the papers to ensure the ones for her private research did not become mixed with the ones for her work, placed them in separate folders, then left the ministry archive to head home, she would try to contact Bill before she went to Gringotts to meet with Godroc.

* * *

Ginny and Harry, alongside their colleagues, were preparing to greet the Bulgarian team at the entrance to the Castle. Minerva stood with Kingsley next to her at the top of the steps, for once the Minister was to play a secondary role to the headmistress, he was there as a guest of the school, his invite had been for him personally, not his position. The entire school was assembled to the side of the main doors, first years at the front, excitedly awaiting the arrival of the world cup runners up, drawing memories of the arrival of the two other schools in preparation of the Triwizard from those who had been there on that occasion. Unlike the arrival of the schools then, this time there was no ship rising from the lake or even horse drawn flying caravan. This time the team visiting the school had Portkeyed from their last engagement near Carlisle to Hogsmeade station, where they were met by some of the coaches that usually brought the pupils on the first day of term. Hagrid waited with them, ready to escort the team and it's staff to the school. By the time they arrived at the station, he had already loaded up the luggage, that had been sent ahead of them, into some wagons normally used to carry the students trunks from the train.

The pupils and staff watched as the carriages moved steadily up the driveway towards them, a view the students found interesting having not seen the slow approach of the line of coaches before. The progress was serene enough to raise anticipation in the watchers, the gentle rocking of the vehicles hypnotic, causing silence to fall as soon as they had come into view. As well as the team, there were a number of trainers and healers, some of the them had family with them as well, all with their own luggage along with brooms and team equipment. All in all, there were almost eighty people arriving including the team and reserves, all of whom were being accommodated in a large wizard tent that the team took with them whenever they were on tour. They had been offered accommodation in the castle as an alternative, but they had preferred their traditional tent, so it would be erected on the lawns, though they would all be eating in the great hall with staff and students.

The first carriage drew to a halt at the bottom of the steps up to the doors and the Bulgarian manager was first to exit, followed by Viktor, who it seemed would be introducing the team and support staff to Minerva. He greeted the headmistress and introduced the manager to her, whilst those two chatted he turned to Harry and Ginny.

"Harry, Ginny, it is good to see you both again." He grinned, hugging them both.

"You too Viktor." Harry laughed.

"Still up to helping me with the first years first lesson Viktor?" Teased Ginny, she had gained his agreement earlier in the week.

"I am still wondering how you got me to agree to that." Viktor grinned. "I am, oddly, looking forward to it, though."

By this time, the others had left the first carriage and the second had stopped, the occupants looking up at the castle in amazement, much as the first years did on their first sight of it, only Viktor in the group of visitors had seen it before. Viktor resumed his duty of introducing the Bulgarians to Minerva, then Harry, Ginny the rest of the staff and Kingsley, who they had all met earlier in the tour. It was hard to tell who was more star struck, the students, as they watched the famous players emerge, or those players as the met Harry, which caused amusement amongst the staff especially. However, soon they were all ensconced in their seats in the Great Hall, where a welcome feast was being served in the finest tradition of Hogwarts, which as had become customary at the Triwizard was a mix of both British and Bulgarian Cuisines. The Hall was decorated in the colours of all four houses and the Bulgarian team, the ceiling and ghost drawing most interest of course. Viktor had warned them all about Peeves and his pranks, so they weren't surprised by the antic's of the poltergeist, which made him play to the audience even more. At least until the Bloody Baron had, had enough and so put an end to the spirit's brand of entertainment, though not without receiving a loud raspberry in response.

Viktor sat at the top table with Harry and Ginny, the manager between Minerva and Kingsley, the rest of the players, team staff and families spread themselves round the rest of the hall, across all four house tables chatting to students and enjoying the meal. Any of the Bulgarians who couldn't speak English had sat with one of their compatriots who could, so that neither they nor the students would miss out on any conversation and both could answer questions about Quidditch or the food as they arose. The noise level was high as both students and Bulgarians got to know each other. By the time pudding appeared, apart from accents and language, it was hard to distinguish between students and visitors from the conversations, they were all, including the Slytherins, laughing and joking like old friends. It was a most enjoyable introduction to the team, it was almost a shame to interrupt after the meal was over, but after welcome speeches from both Minerva, Kingsley and the team manager, the time came to draw the evening to a close. The students filed out and made their way to their dormitory, then the visitors happily big goodnight to the staff before leaving to the tent that had been erected outside while they had eaten, inviting the staff to visit the next day.

* * *

Despite the visit of his son in the company of those freaks a few weeks ago, Vernon Dursley still could not fathom why his wife had left him. He had, that day, reviewed a letter from solicitors claiming to be acting on Petunia's behalf, stating her intent to divorce him, for unreasonable behaviour, although it did not specify what that meant. Although he could not believe the letter was possibly genuine or official, probably a tool to try to intimidate or trick him he had taken it to Grunnings' solicitor for advice on how to deal with any future attempts. He was dismayed to discover, that not only was it the solicitors opinion that the letter should be taken seriously, but they could not act for him in the matter either. It appeared they were part of the same group of chambers who had issued the letter on the instructions of his wife, Vernon had been furious that they were well aware of the Magical world and advised him to find a solicitor for himself if he wished to contest the divorce. After that the refused to discuss the matter further, asking him to leave their offices, which he begrudgingly did.

Despite the advice, Vernon had yet to find himself a solicitor, during those weeks. Believing that the moment he did he was accepting the word of those tainted by that world, as well as that Petunia really did want the divorce. That was impossible, she was obviously being coerced into this and would come to her senses despite being influenced by the boy as well as any other freaks she may be with. This was clearly them using their freakishness on her to force her to do all this, nothing else made sense to him as even a likely possibility.

He had arrived at his office in a filthy mood this morning, the traffic had been horrendous and he had then been held up at the level crossing, while a long freight train had crawled through. He had ignored the receptionist's forced cheery "Good Morning Mr. Dursley." Although he knew that it probably meant she had something she wished to tell him, he continued on without stopping, hearing her call. "Mr Dursley just a moment." Behind him, he ignored her, she could send any messages to his secretary for him, if they really were that important.

A moment later he passed through the door to his outer office, where his Secretary was busy at the filing cabinet, he grunted what might have been a good morning to her and entered his own office without waiting for a response. He closed the door forcefully behind him, turning to hang his coat and hat on the hook on the wall near it, before turning towards his desk in front of the window. He had taken a half step before he stopped short, he quickly grounded his foot. He had turned to discover a ginger haired young man sat in his chair, behind his desk, apparently waiting for him.

"Ah, you must be Dursley." The man coolly observed. "Do you usually arrive to begin your day over an hour after the rest of the staff? That does not bode well, now you have finally arrived, please take a seat."

Taken aback at the confidence with which the man had addressed him, Vernon gaped before allowing his mood to show. "I fail to see that my arrival time is any of your business, you also seem to be occupying my customary chair, Mr er...?" He said shortly.

Ignoring the tone, the man remained seated and replied. "Weasley, I am Mr William Weasley, I represent the owner of Grunnings, Mr Dursley, now please sit down, so that we may discuss a few matters regarding your position within his organisation."

Having no choice, Vernon sat in the seat opposite the man, immediately he felt he had lost control. His secretary walked in, ignored him and placed some files in front of the red head. "These are the first of the files you asked for Mr. Weasley, I shall bring the rest shortly for you."

"Thank you Jane, can you give us a few minutes while I explain things here."

"Of course, just call when you are ready Bill." She smiled and left the room.

Vernon was looking between the two open mouthed at the interchange, amazed at how familiar the two were, not to mention the co operation. His attention was suddenly brought back to the issue at hand as the man behind the desk spoke again.

"Mr. Dursley, as you are aware Grunnings is a part of a group of companies, which each operate separately on a day to day basis, but have some responsibility to the group as a whole. You have been notified of group wide changes and the need to send a full up to date report on the business activities of this company to enable the owner to make informed decisions." Seeing Vernon about to object, Bill held up the letters. "There is no point objecting Dursley, we have already found the letters we sent with your notations instructing that they be ignored, you seem to have indicated they are a prank of some sort. As you did not respond to them, my team and myself are here to audit Grunnings, bringing it into line with all the other companies in the group. This is a very small cog in the machine of the entire group, that is what has enabled this factory to gain it's raw materials for such reasonable rates, however this company is also by far the weakest link. You have benefited from being owned by my client, but have failed to fulfil your responsibilities for some time. Today that ends, today we discover precisely how much of a problem this company is and you are too. Please do not be mistaken, our findings shall decide your future in the company. "

From that point on Vernon's day changed, it had started off badly and became worse, much worse with each passing minute. Vernon had believed his journey to work had been bad, for him however, it was, but a fore-taste of what was to follow. Mr Weasley had brought a large team of oddly dressed sharp-toothed short people, who went through the company's paperwork like a dose of salts, nothing was left hidden, the smallest anomaly investigated thoroughly. It seemed the owner, who was unknown to Vernon, was suddenly no longer content to be silent on the running of the company and required full disclosure on all the goings on in the firm. Be they manufacturing practises, staff relations, customer base, or financial, all aspects of the company were swiftly investigated, warts and all. Until today, he and the other directors had merely sent quarterly reports via the company bank, reports they had prepared and seemed to satisfy the owner, at least they had heard no criticism of the meagre information they contained. The strange efficient midgets had been quite adept at finding where Vernon had awarded himself bonuses and perks. Of course, he was not the only director to have enjoyed extra reward than they were strictly supposed to have received, each of them had dipped into the company pot to varying degrees. However, it seemed he was by far the greediest, as the day progressed he grew increasingly worried as more of his supposedly hidden and buried fiddles and extortions of company finances were brought to light with surprising efficiency. He and the other directors could do nothing to prevent the work, Vernon was horrified as the staff fully co operated with these people, including his secretary, who he had believed to be completely loyal to him and him alone. He had contacted the police, reporting Weasley and the others as burglars, they arrived, but having seen a few papers which satisfied them that the factory was not being ransacked and that Mr. Weasley and his team had every right to do as they were they remained just long enough to prevent a breach of the peace. They had even threatening to arrest him, as he grew angrier at their inaction. It was at this point he realised he was on his own, each of the other directors, who he had appointed and promoted to their positions, were clearly aiding the investigation. The police had to leave eventually, giving Vernon a warning not to waste their time again, especially in order to try to get out of a situation of personal embarrassment although they ominously said they would be pleased to return if the findings of his employers representatives required it.

At the end of the day, each director was informed that they would be expected to repay the company what they had taken from it which they had, had no right to do. For most of them it meant either surrendering their company car to cover the amount, or simply repaying the bonuses they had awarded themselves. Vernon's skill at fiddling expenses and taking what did not belong to him on a regular basis it seemed, amounted to a very large sum though. It included number four Privet Drive, Grunnings having provided the mortgage, which he seemed to have forgotten to repay ever since he became responsible for company finances at the time. In addition, his son's School fees had been paid for by the company, as had his car and many of the family expenses and foreign holidays. Vernon was glad now that the Police had left, even he was shocked at quite how much the total he had taken was, when he saw it all itemised over several sheets of paper. He knew he stood to be arrested and would have no chance of leniency for this level of extortion from the company he headed, he would expect a lengthy stay in prison if it went that far. His only consolation was that his son and wife would not know about this, he needed to find a way out of this mess, he had to meet with the new owner, he was certain he would be able to reason with the man. After all, he thought as he watched the other directors settle their debts, he would never have got away with it for so long if the owner had checked earlier, it was therefore the owners fault he had taken so much, so Vernon should not have to pay for that negligence. He hoped whoever it was would see reason and agree with him, otherwise he was ruined. That hope was soon dissolved, as his turn came to find out his future. It quickly became clear the owner would not agree to meet with him any time soon, his suggestion and reasoning were met with looks of disbelief and questions as to his sanity when he voiced them to Weasley and some of his short associates. His fellow directors didn't bother smothering their laughter as they heard him put his case, even after he was given the terms of settlement he could not understand why none of them, not his colleagues, Weasley or the members of his team thought his reasoning was quite so ridiculous.

He was thoroughly depressed when he arrived home, his method for financing the family lifestyle for all those years since he had become a director had come to light. His gerrymandering of finances were being unravelled, laid bare, the evidence they were uncovering was incontrovertible, despite his efforts over the years, clearly he had not covered the tracks as well as he believed he had. Petunia and Dudley had, had no idea this was how he had managed to have access to the money, they thought he had simply been very well paid for good service to the company. His day in the office had been a roller coaster of emotion, he had begun by growing angry, then furious that they had the cheek to do this, his fury soon descended into pleading, then silent resignation before reaching hopelessness with the realisation that he would be lucky to end the day with any of his assets intact. Now, he was lucky to still have his house to live in and a job, he had been demoted and he now had to pay rent to live in number four Privet drive, he had signed a stringent tenancy agreement. The company owned it after all, even the deeds were not in his name as security against the mortgage that he had failed to pay back. He'd also had to sign an agreement that should he be sacked, or leave the employ of Grunnings for any reason, he would immediately repay the rest of the money and vacate the house or face prosecution. However, to Vernon, that was not the worst that had been demanded of him.

Mr Weasley had insisted on one more condition, to preventing him being evicted, fired, instantly liable for the full amount of his embezzlement and prosecution. It seemed the owner believed all his employees should treat others fairly, especially the families. Vernon had nearly exploded with anger when he was told that in view of this, the owner did not want the adverse publicity a messy divorce of such a prominent man might bring on to Grunnings through association. Vernon had agreed to ensure his personal life would not affect the company, but in the end after much argument he had signed the papers, agreeing not to contest the divorce and making a final settlement for his wife. This done, the neat papers he signed secured a job at Grunnings and his tenancy agreement for number four Privet Drive, though not his car. It had been a very long day, one he pondered on his walk home and that he would long remember. Seeing her brother's exhaustion, Marge brought him a large glass of brandy which he uncharacteristically sipped with a trembling hand, as he told her of the events of the day.

* * *

Ginny was nervous as she walked out of the castle the evening after the feast, although she had overseen the try outs and practices for all four Quidditch teams, this evening was her first formal lesson she would take and it was the first years first lesson as well. It was always a little unpredictable a lesson as she recalled it, although her own had not been as eventful as Harry, Ron and Hermione's. She wouldn't be alone teaching the class, Viktor had agreed to help her and the entire first year have their first flying lesson. The Romanian team had spent the day settling in and training on the pitch,whilst the students went through their usual routine, but they had finished in time for Viktor to join in the lesson, his team mates teasing him a little as they returned to the tent.

Ginny had carefully planned how she wanted the lesson to work and so, once the Romanians had finished, she arranged every one of the school brooms in a large circle on the grass of the Quidditch pitch, she had decided to hold the lesson there as it felt enclosed, she hoped it would contain any mishaps or runaway flyers in a manageable area. As she completed the task, she was joined by Viktor, he grinned as he saw what she was doing. They had time for a short greeting and she briefed him about the class, he added a couple of ideas of his own, which Ginny agreed added to her plan, before the arrival of the first years. Gathering them in a group in the centre of the pitch, Ginny took the roll to ensure everyone was there, before introducing Viktor then giving initial instructions to the students.

"You will notice that the brooms are arranged in a circle, there is one for each of you. Those of you who have not flown before, please do not worry, I don't expect you to be able to fly like the Quidditch teams did, so please take your time. By the end of this lesson you will all have experienced the thrill of flying, though some of you will no doubt enjoy it more than others. Now I want you all to go and stand beside a broom with your wand hand held out above it. Do nothing more until instructed to do so, understood?" She told the gathered excited eleven year olds.

There were general sounds of agreement and Ginny instructed them to begin, the students ran to the brooms and took the position as instructed. Under instruction they called their brooms in to their hand, some more quickly than others, before they straddled the broom handle when told to do so. Ginny and Viktor went round the circle helping each student in turn, once each had risen and landed satisfactorily, the two instructors took to their own brooms and led them all through various control exercises, demonstrating each one, then observing the students progress. Some of the students appeared confident as they stood beside their broom, others had a decidedly nervous demeanour, however, as the lesson progressed, with Ginny and Viktor giving assistance as they were needed, the first years soon managed the basic moves. By the end of the lesson all were flying around the pitch with confidence, although most demonstrated the characteristic lack of precision of beginners which would come with practise.

While Ginny was teaching, Harry and Kreacher had visited the library at Grimmauld place. They had retrieved more of the books it contained about the time and legends of Utred, most were much more recent interpretations, but in the process they had discovered a book entirely written in runes. It had floated to the table in response to Harry requesting a good source of information about Frayja Huntrodds, he was surprised when such an obviously ancient text had appeared, handling it carefully. He lifted the bound parchments in their clearly more recent card cover and placed it in his bag with the other books. Kreacher again secured the house, as they left to deliver the books to Hermione, where she was waiting, eager with anticipation that she could find out more, especially after her trip to Gringotts. Kreacher had anxiously asked Harry if he should go to fetch a healer, when the bushy haired witch had started hyperventilating when she saw the runic book.

Once she calmed down she hugged first Kreacher then Harry."Oh Harry, this is amazing, according to the cover this is a journal by Utred's wife. It's invaluable, I promise I will look after it." She gushed.

"I know you will sis." Harry grinned, as he and Kreacher left, Harry to a meeting with Bill, Kreacher back to the castle.

Rosemerta greeted Harry warmly as he entered the Three Broomsticks, acknowledging her welcome he then glanced round the room, spotting Bill at the far end of the smoky bar, sat at a booth, glass in his hand. Harry ordered a drink and collected it before making his way over to meet with his financial advisor and brother-in-law.

"Hi Bill, how's Fleur and Victoire?" He greeted the older man as he took a seat opposite him.

"Hi Harry, they are fine, Victoire is growing well. They will be here at the end of the week to see the game." Bill smiled.

"Good, I know Ginny wants to see how much Victoire has grown. So how did it all go at Grunnings yesterday then?"

"About as expected, all the directors had dipped their fingers into the company funds, through none anywhere near as much as your uncle, in fact he had taken far more than the others put together. One had simply purloined a constant supply of stationary supplies for his family's use, the worst of the others had a new car each year at company expense, although the company did get the value of each car at trade in. Then, there is your uncle. The man makes Mundungus look honest, I know even the Muggles would have imprisoned him for the level of theft from you that he had committed. Still, I guess Petunia is right, his reputation is ruined and that hurts him more, he agreed to everything in the end though."

"Good, that means Petunia will be free of him as soon as a hearing date can be fixed. I still think he is getting more than he deserves really, but she is happy with him having half of what they actually owned and getting rid of him. She was unaware of and wants no part of his thievery, she is more than happy to earn what she wants. That said I must do something to help her, please don't tell her quite how much he took, she feels bad enough that she benefited from it in any case, I don't want her feeling worse."

"Ah... about that, Harry." Bill looked a bit sheepish as Harry looked up suddenly worried.

"What went wrong Bill?"

"Nothing wrong Harry, nothing at all. It's just that there was an unexpected problem over the house at Privet Drive, it seems it was never the Dursley's". Bill confessed.

"Then, whose was it?" Harry mused.

"Well it seems that Vernon thought it a good idea for the deeds to be in the company's name, so he didn't have to pay for it. The Goblins discovered that he arranged for the firm to record that it had given him the mortgage and that he was paying for it, in the main records. Sadly, this didn't tally with what had been paid into the firm, we accounted for and checked every payment received and made in the last twenty years. We investigated any difference between the ledger, the reports sent to Gringotts and the bank statements, The payments he supposedly paid Grunnings, were absent from all records except the ledger, so he now pays rent as the company's new tenant in its house."

"So, as I own Grunnings, I own the house. I think I shall speak with Dudley, see what he thinks, but if he thinks she would want it I'll give it to Petunia and she can be his landlord." Harry grinned grimly. "I have more than enough property after all, Bill."

"As your advisor, I would state that it is impossible for you to have too much Harry, but as your friend and brother in law, I would sympathise, then remind you that you can do an awful lot with it all for yourselves and others." Bill replied, smiling slightly.

"I know Bill, I know." Sighed Harry, chuckling. "But, after how I grew up, it does seem a little obscene that I now have so much."

"I can see that Harry, but like I say, you can do a lot of good with it, don't rush into anything though, take your time to decide anything big."

Following the class, Ginny and Viktor headed to the village to spend the evening there with Harry. Petunia joined them, as she knew Bill would be reporting back on what had happened at Grunnings. When they arrived, Bill outlined what had happened, shocking Petunia, although as agreed he did not reveal the full extent of her soon to be ex husbands pilfering. She was pleased however, that Vernon would not be contesting the divorce.

* * *

In Privet Drive, Vernon spent the evening once again explaining what had transpired to Marge, who was furious. "How dare they Vernon? How dare they treat you like that, after all you have done for that company? If I were you, I would have walked out." She angrily admonished him, she was furious about how her brother was being treated by the firm he had worked for, for so long.

"I couldn't Marge, not without coming up with a fortune and losing this place anyway. As I said, this newly appeared owner had a whole team of accountants and investigators already there when I arrived. I called the Police, but they couldn't stop them, they had proof that they represented the owner and authority to do what they were doing. They found everything I had taken, every penny that I charged to the company that weren't legitimate company expenses, I have to admit, I had no idea how much it was in total, I was quite surprised. I am lucky to have a job or home at all and not be facing charges, they had indisputable evidence after all." He glumly told her.

"This owner, whoever it is, had no business sending in those people Vernon. All these years and not a word, then all of a sudden all this. Why now?" She fumed.

Vernon had no answer; he had no idea who the mysterious owner was, never mind their motives. He had never felt so depressed, so out of control of his own destiny, having for so long been the big cheese both at home and work, he was lost to not be the one in charge any longer. His first day in his new post had been one of humiliation at his lowly position, biting his tongue not to snap at those now above him. Even so he resented it the smug looks on those who would not have dared defy him just a few days ago now addressed him as Vernon and ordered him around grated. At home what was the point of being top dog of a household without his family? His fall was almost complete, but he knew it could be worse, so he shrugged and allowed Marge to rant on while he reflected on how lightly he had gotten off, even with the agreements he had signed regarding the divorce. That was the biggest puzzle to him though, why would his employer insist on that? Why would they be interested in his marriage breaking down? Why not help him prevent it, rather than encourage the move to divorce if avoiding family scandal in employees families were the real reason? It seemed strange, odd, but he couldn't fathom that, perhaps it would come clear in the hearing that still must take place, when that happened.

* * *

The end of the week at the school saw much excitement when the English national team arrived to prepare for the friendly match against the Bulgarians, the Scottish team was touring America so would not play the Bulgarians at the school. The match had seen the entire school turn out to watch, alongside a number of members of the Wizangamot, and the Ministry of Magic. Kingsley sat with Minerva of course, the more observant students near them noticing the occasional affectionate looks between the two during the game. England were narrowly defeated after an hour of play, when Viktor caught the Snitch. It had been a fast moving good, but uneventful match as far as injuries were concerned at least. A fitting end to a week at Hogwarts that had been sports based for all students. The house teams joined the Bulgarians for training, there were also training sessions open for all students who wanted to take them with the team, which was most of them at some points in the week. Petunia introduced Muggle sport during her classes, demonstrated a few and getting the pupils to try them out. Indoors table tennis had quickly become a favourite; whilst, surprisingly, considering the speed of Quidditch, cricket was the alfresco favourite, with football was a close second. Athletic events were also tried, which led to a couple of new clubs being asked for in running and long Jump.

Harry held duelling contests for each class, professor Flitwick held a fencing club each evening after dinner for the week; he was quite the duellist. Horace had the students learning various related potions, including some healing ones for the Hospital wing. The week passed too quickly, though, to the unanimous pleasure of the school, the planned match between Bulgaria and a school team was changed in favour of a sports day of both magical and Muggle games. The winners of each game gaining points for their house, the staff, and Bulgarian team members acting as judges, umpires and referees. At the end of the day, one house had shown great promise at many of the sports, including rowing, track and field events, and various others; as such that house had won overall, so the great Hall was decorated in the Hufflepuff house colours for the Farewell feast for the Bulgarians, Minerva and the Manager exchanged plaques showing the coats of arms of the school and team to each other, to mark the event. As the meal drew to a close, Harry, Ginny and Viktor talked over the events of the week, soon though, they were walking towards the doors of the hall.

"They deserved to win." Viktor observed.

"Yes, they did fantastically." Admitted Harry.

"Shame it wasn't us though." Grinned Ginny, raising a chuckle from them all.

The three friends parted, Viktor to go back to the tent, which when Harry and Ginny had visited they had discovered housed a well equipped residential, training and medical facility. There were family suites, a swimming pool, which had been used for swimming competitions in the week, Gymnasium. There was a classroom for team briefings and of course tuition of any children in the party, as well as leisure facilities. The medical suit was fully equipped and included a sauna and massage tables. It was an incredible facility as a whole, all who visited it were impressed.

A few minutes later, Harry, Ginny, Minerva and Kingsley sat in the head of Gryffindor's quarters, mainly discussing the up coming wedding, until Harry dozed of.

Kingsley looked at the young man. "Is he really doing all right Ginny?"

"Yes, he is Kingsley" Ginny told him happily

"Some days, as long as its not a busy one, he only needs sleep once, in addition to his full nights rest, others its only a couple of times. Though the length of time he's asleep on those occasions is a shorter time."

"Good. I need him fit for what I have in mind for him." The Minister smiled. "I haven't got him due to start with us until September though, and only I, Arthur and Oliver know at the moment."

Ginny smiled "He's getting frustrated with it, it's months since he came back to us, and he doesn't want to have to worry about if he is going to fall asleep in the middle of the day."

"Don't worry Ginny, he will be better soon now, I would think." Minerva reassured the young woman. "Mind you, I wouldn't mind keeping you both on staff here."

"No, you don't, Min." Kingsley grinned affectionately. "I need him."

Ginny laughed "Nice try Minerva, but the Harpies want me in September too. Still, we won't be strangers, perhaps pop into school occasionally."

The three chatted into the night until Harry awoke, then they dispersed to their rooms.

* * *

 **Authors Notes:**

Hope you enjoyed that.  
Many thanks to those of you who have been kind enough to leave a review, it is much appreciated. I look forward to reading any reviews you leave, I try to reply to them all via the site messaging system.

Real life is beginning to encroach a little more this month, but I shall do my best not to leave it too long before the next chapter is published.

If you haven't visited my profile recently you may not have noticed I have expanded another of my one shots, please have a look, two have now recieved this updating.

Until next time.  
Tgfoy

 **Historical notes:**

King Constantine the second really did exist, though I doubt he was as I have described my character nor have I based the Constantine of this story on the historical figure beyond using the name. Briefly this is what is known of the real one.

 **Constantine II (900-942)** **King of Scotland.**  
Son of Aedh. After an unsuccessful invasion of Northumbria, Constantine had to submit to the Saxon King Edward the Elder, son of Alfred the Great. Constantine was also defeated in a later battle against Athelstan, Edward's son, at Brunanburgh. He renounced the throne in favour of his cousin, Malcolm I and became a monk at St Andrews. He died in 952.

The Antonine Wall is lesser known than the more Southerly Hadrian's wall, but no less important.

It was constructed in the AD 140s on the orders of the Emperor Antoninus Pius; for a generation it was the north-western frontier of the Roman Empire and the northern extent of that massive empire. Running for 60 km from modern Old Kilpatrick on the north side of the River Clyde to Bo'ness on the Firth of Forth. In 2008 it became a UNESCO World Heritage Site.


	14. The Elves and Phoenix

Disclaimer: As always, anything you recognise from the novels by J.K. Rowling belongs to her and I make no claim on it, anything else however is from my weird imagination.

* * *

 **Chapter 14**

 **Elves and Phoenix.**

 **Late 20th Century:**

The entire student and staff population of the school was gathered in the Great Hall, as were quite a number of the other residents as well as some visitors. Most were sat, excited, at the tables beneath the floating candle lit pumpkins and flying cloud of bats that swooped between them, eagerly anticipating the start of the Halloween feast, just as the students and staff did each year. This year, however, the feast seemed somehow different, there were those few extra people present, people who were not often seen at the school, which of course was a point of interest amongst the students. They could, of course, simply have been here for the feast, but then they were not dressed as might be expected simply to attend even a celebration feast at the school. It was the first time this celebration had required Bill Weasley to don dress robes and stand with a few others, similarly attired, at the front of the hall in a small separate group, for one thing. That was the first thing that piqued the curiosity of the students and most of the staff, which of course set a chatter of speculation going around the hall, theories and ideas quickly growing as the speculation spread through them with a speed that would astound any who had not seen it before. The group did not just contain the now familiar figure of the Minister of Magic, but comprised a number of additional people who were not normally in attendance at the feasts at the school, as well as one who would, but was not in his customary seat. As well as this familiar figure, it looked to the students, that most of the minister's advisers and the Cabinet, who had become an almost familiar sight at the school the year before, were there as well as some other figures they did not recognise. Almost the entire staff of Hogwarts were sat in their usual places, they looked as puzzled as the students, especially as only one of the professors Potter had arrived so far, which in itself was odd. Harry and Ginny always arrived together for both breakfast and the evening meal, but tonight he was the one not in his customary place, instead he stood with the Minister. The Professors Potter's seats were both vacant along with Minerva's and Filius place, although the Charms Master could be seen with his Choir to the side of the hall apparently waiting for something, Which was of course another odd thing this evening. With all the extra people present and everything else, there was definitely something going on, the more observant had noticed there seemed to be enough extra seats at the top table for each of the other guests as well, which indicated they were here for a reason. There was no sign of either Ginny or Minerva, while Harry was standing with the Minister, both of whom were anxiously watching the main door to the hall, as if waiting for something, as was Professor Flitwick. The headmistress had yet to arrive, which in and of itself was most unusual, it was all very odd. This all added to an excited air of anticipation in the Hall, though no one outside of the visitors present could quite understand exactly why, there was definitely something in the air, what that something was, only a select few knew with certainty.

Harry smiled to an unusually nervous Minister. "Kingsley are you ready for this my friend?" He whispered, reassuringly.

"As I'll ever be! I don't know how you felt when it was your turn Harry, but I am far more nervous now than even when I made my maiden speech to the Wizangamot you know. Mind you it was the waiting that was the worst that time, just like now in fact. " Kingsley's voice cracked slightly, betraying his nerves. "I wish they would hurry up and get here."

Harry chuckled. "Don't worry Kingsley, she'll be here soon enough, then it will all be a bit of a blur until it's done. Take some deep breaths and enjoy it, it will all be done before you know it and you will wonder why you were so nervous at all. Trust me, I know."

While Kingsley took some calming gulps of air, Oliver Gresley walked forward. "Ready when you are, Harry. Would you check if the ladies are ready to make their grand entrance and solve the mystery for everyone?"

Nodding, Harry grinned and opened the link between himself and Ginny.

In the entrance hall, Ginny and Minerva were waiting for the signal that all was ready for them to enter. They had remained in the headmistress's quarters until a portrait, as had been arranged, told them that along with the expected guests, the entire student and staff body had entered the hall. The two women had then made their way through the corridors to where they had now stood, outside the doors to the Great Hall, for a few minutes, waiting. They glanced at the main entrance, where Grawp was happily looking in to where they stood, he chuckled and waved to them, they both waved back, before he walked round to watch the the Great Hall through his usual window. They knew his appearance there and him opening it was a common enough occurrence that it would not cause a stir among the students. Many would in fact be relieved for Peeves had taken to sitting with Grawp on the occasions he took his vantage point, ever since the two had seen off Rita Skeeter after the battle they had developed a bond. whenever they were together at the window, the Poltergeist refrained from pranking the occupants of the hall, except to pinch titbits of food and drink for his friend to snack on.

After Grawp had left for his vantage point the two women did not have long to wait, before, suddenly, Ginny glanced meaningfully to the door. "Harry says they are ready in there, are we?" She smiled.

"As I'll ever be!" Minerva grinned. "Tell him to get things started will you?" She added.

Ginny laughed and after a moment smiled. "He agrees, he says we better had, or Kingsley will be so nervous he won't be able to say his vows."

Minerva laughed. "Typical, he can stand in front of the entire Wizangamot, even the massed press with no problem, but he gets nervous at his own wedding, shouldn't that be me?"

Harry nodded to Oliver, who raised his hand to the only other member of staff who knew what was going on. Professor Flitwick had rehearsed the school choir over the last couple of weeks, teaching them the music that the couple had requested, all without telling any of the members what it was for. At Oliver's signal, he called the choir to order, then raised his arms to conduct them. The song began, before even the first bar of the introduction of the piece had been performed, all chatter in the Great Hall had silenced, the students and faculty watched, dumbstruck, at this strange turn of events. The choir had certainly performed at school events before, but never at the Halloween feast, nor such an inappropriate song for the celebration. The song could not be described as suitable in any way for tonight's expected festivities, there was nothing haunting about it, it was too cheerful, too optimistic, too forward looking for the tradition of all hallows eve.

Outside the Great Hall the Ladies heard the choir start and the chatter drop to nothing, while they waited by the doors. Kreacher and Winky appeared and stood, holding the door handles, ready to open them. Minerva winked to the female Elf. "Your turn tomorrow Winky."

The Elf grinned widely and nodded enthusiastically, glancing over to Kreacher. The first verse of the song finished and the chorus began, this was the signal that they were waiting for. "Right, here we go." Smiled Ginny.

At a nod and smile from Minerva, the two Elves smartly opened the doors and the women led by Minerva, walked regally through, into the hall.

The doors to the Hall opened, the eyes of everyone, who wasn't singing or in on what was happening, swept round to see who it was that was arriving. They soon identified the two figures that were now entering the hall, slowly walking up the centre aisle, were two ladies. One was the sports mistress, who was dressed in a red dress with tartan sash across it. Just in front of her was the Headmistress, who was in traditional Scottish dress, her family tartan worn with pride, a bouquet of roses held in front of her.

The students watched the pair walk down the centre aisle between the house tables, realisation dawning on many, mostly girls who cooed about how lovely it was. The boys mostly looked bewildered at how the Halloween feast seemed to be turning into something else entirely, many were wondering how it would effect when they would be eating.

Ginny and Minerva reached their destination, in front of the staff table, where Oliver, Harry and Kingsley were waiting. The choir reached the last lines of the processional song just as Oliver took his place in front of the couple and their sponsors, ready to officiate at his Boss's wedding. The music faded and a murmur began again amongst the student body, as they whispered urgently about what was going on.

Oliver took a deep breath, smiled and began the ceremony before the murmur could get louder. "Ladies, Gentlemen, guests and students, it is with great pleasure that I pronounce the welcome to you all, on this very special occasion. Not just your Halloween feast, but the wedding of my boss, our Minister of Magic to your Headmistress as well. I am Oliver Gresley, head of the department of magical transportation, Uncle to young Martin and according to the matron of honour, your sports mistress, a real teddy bear." He grinned widely, he had grown inordinately proud of that description of himself. "I am here to preside over this ceremony, but don't worry, you will not miss your feast, it will commence following the wedding, which we shall now begin, then we shall all be able to eat all the sooner."

The ceremony went smoothly, once the initial surprise of the school's staff and students had passed. The couple used promises that they had written for themselves, there was hardly a dry eye amongst the members of the fairer sex present as they were made. The binding glowed quite brightly, once the rings had been exchanged, sealing the marriage and the couple had kissed, Gawp had laughed loudly and roared in approval, then Mr. Swiftshot appeared from behind the choir to take pictures. Once again the enthusiastic photographer efficiently organised everyone into the pictures they were needed for, even managing to arrange all present along the wall where Grawp was watching through the window with Peeves, his camera tuning on a clockwork mechanism, that also wound on the film, taking a picture of them all. Oliver even managing to run from one end to the other behind them all, so he would appear at both ends on the image, which he explained was traditional, though the glint in his eye told them he had just achieved something he had always wanted to. Kingsley, Filius and Harry made brief speeches, fulfilling tradition the last two contained humorous stories about both the newly weds. Filius about working with Minerva, as well as a few stories about Kingsley when he was a student. Harry shared a few tales of being a student, then a friend of Minerva's and working with the Minister and the story of Kingsley creating snow over carollers last Christmas. Toasts were given, then, to the relief of a number of the male students, proceedings moved seamlessly to the next part of the evening, the feast.

After all had eaten their fill, came the usual Hogwarts post feast speeches, which were brief, to the relief of the student body, then Minerva and Kingsley cut a magnificent cake. It was five large tiers tall, decorated in traditional style in white icing, decorated with edible flowers. Each tier had the badge of each house centrally positioned, one on each side except the bottom one which had the Hogwarts crest next to the Ministry one on each side. The top tier was topped with two figures, one depicting Minerva, the other Kingsley. Once they had ceremonially cut the cake, Kreacher and Winky led a group of Elves to move it to the room behind the platform, where it would be cut into pieces, ready to be distributed later in the evening to everyone present. It was then that Minerva revealed that there was one final surprise for everyone, she and Kingsley had booked the Weird Sisters to perform in the Hall until midnight for the entire school. Once the cheering subsided the students were asked to assemble along one wall, the tables were cleared away and the happy couple led the first dance. They were joined by other couples present, including Harry and Ginny, after the first verse, then after the song ended the tempo rose and the students eagerly took over the floor, with the adults mostly watching indulgently, although some did occasionally take to the floor themselves.

Minerva watched the youngsters enjoying themselves and smiled in contentment.

"Happy my love?" Kingsley asked.

"Ecstatic Kingsley, I always enjoyed watching them party, they are so full of life. I am glad we did that and decided to hold the ceremony here." She gazed at him and he smiled at her happiness as Winky brought them another drink.

After an hour the band took a break and the Elves appeared, distributing drinks and portions of the wedding cake to all, before the music resumed along with the dancing.

Midnight arrived and with it, the time for the final ceremonial part of the day. Under age single witches had to stand to the side with the boys and watch, as their older counterparts assembled in front of the platform where Minerva stood, her back to them. The bouquet was thrown into the throng, Minerva felt like she was passing on the baton she had received from Ginny, when she had launched the flowers over her head and back towards the expectant group, at her wedding a few weeks ago. Minerva had been as surprised as she had caught the flowers then, ahead of Hermione who most had expected would be the one to receive them. This evening the bloody Baron prevented Peeves from intercepting the bouquet, holding the poltergeist back as the flowers arced through the air, causing Grawp to laugh in amusement at his friend.

The unmarried girls, especially those with boyfriends, were excited as the floral arrangement drew closer to them, Hermione was in the group, the bouquet was heading straight towards her. She reached up and caught the flowers cleanly. The moment she had hold of them, golden sparks flew into the air from the blooms, the other girls quickly stepped back from her in surprise, leaving a clear space around her. Hermione looked round, a gentle twister of dust rose from the floor, which swiftly grew and took form in front of the amazed witch. The spectral figure grew from the cyclone directly in front of Hermione, a surprised Ron looked on open mouthed, a stunned look on his face, as he stood, rooted to the spot just a few feet away. The figure was translucent like a ghost, but unlike the Hogwarts spectres, this figure was not grey. She was dressed in fine, but her clothes of bright colours were clearly from an era long gone, made of wools and linens, a white silk cloth covered her head, a wealth of silver jewellery, as well as bright fine glass beads, adorned her. She had a sword held in a leather belt at her side, a bearded axe next to a leather pouch on her other side, a wand was tucked between the two. Ron took in the scene as the figure leant down toward his fiancée, although he was too far away and shouldn't have been able to, he heard her every word as she spoke softly in Hermione's ear as if it were his ear she was speaking into.

"Heir of my Lord , first of our descendants to be magical, you may soon marry your flame-haired sweetheart, the descendant of the Creafta twins, who can also hear me. Only when you two are bonded can you go to the place that pulls you by the northern sea, do not return there before, not even to the town, or all will be lost. Seek Godric's words in Tigelwotta's hidden book, his descendant and his flame haired wife, sister of your intended, shall discover it soon, it is already in their home, they took it there unknowingly. Still once revealed, it will tell you all that you must know to free our kin, descendants of our trio all. The founders four planned this long ago to fulfil a Master's oath to an apprentice who became the usurper King, he believed it protected him from the justified vengeance of my husband. He failed to understand the oath despite the care of his teacher, in the end, but there was a heavy price to pay, though not as high as if justified vengeance had not been required. The founders four, including the Master who swore the oath, ensured the price to be paid could end, secured the circumstance that my Lord's family should ascend once more in life and finally in death, if you succeed. It is up to you to bring the strands together, to free them all as the founder's, my Husbands teacher's, intended, or you and your descendants shall share their fate for eternity. Fate has decreed the task falls to you and you alone, though your bonded one, the descendant of Tigelwotta and his partner along with one who is the first of his line to have more than a spark of our gift, though is barely aware of it yet and has returned his line to the village all have a role to play. If all take their role willingly, our family will be saved and the legacy of Godric shall be restored."

It's message delivered, the figure faded and Hermione glanced to Ron who asked. "That was weird, who was she?"

She shrugged." I don't know exactly, my ancestor's wife she said, I guess that means I am descended from her too. Beyond that I have no idea, but we must talk to Harry and who do we know who is the first of his line with our gift?"

"Or who has returned his line to the village?" Ron added.

She made her way towards her friend, bouquet all, but forgotten in her hand. She did not get far when the grey lady, the Lady Helena Ravenclaw, ghost of her mother's house, stopped her. "Miss Granger, you are the one then. I suspected you might be, from the moment you entered Hogwarts, but only now can I be sure it is you. I am pleased that it is so, as would be my mother. The Lady Frayja Huntrodds of Tang appears rarely, the last time was five hundred years ago, when she saw the removal of some artefacts from the school, items she knew would be returned one day. One, the most vital, is held awaiting the time of restoration, which is now near at hand it seems. You though, are her heir, the one destined to free her family, give them their rest and end the legacy of the cursed family. I well remember the day the curse was placed as it had to be, for I was there as was the ghost of my man, he died in the battle just before. The curse was made to ensure an oath between wizard and apprentice was fulfilled so that both Salazar and Lord Utred could retain their lives and magic. It ensured that Utred's line would survive and return to the magical world one day, you are living proof that it worked, but now those who came between need to be freed. I well remember the magic Godric and all the founders wove to enable the days of its ending, Salazar leading the process, he regretted the oath he had taken with his apprentice, he above all was angry at what it meant they had to do to a new Wizarding line, to a muggle born wizard who he admired and respected. You are the one destined to complete the magic they began that day, only you can do it, I look forward to the day it is achieved. Perhaps then it may be that this castle, this place, can be restored to the state it should be.

The ghost drifted off, singing happily, as she passed through the wall behind the teachers table. The other ghosts of Hogwarts shimmered in the stillness, staring at the spot Lady Frayja had appeared. Even the mischievous spirit Peeves was still, eyes round in amazement of what he had just seen. If anyone had looked closely, they would have noticed his eyes beginning to water, before he quickly turned in mid air and fled through the ceiling, weeping, the bloody Baron following urgently, calling for the spirit to wait, Grawp calling after his friend, a helpless look on his face.

At last the other girls moved and approached Hermione to congratulate her, she had yet to reach Harry. She was puzzled at first, then remembered what they had been doing before Frayja Huntrodds had appeared. She held the roses in her hand, then looked smiling at Ron. Suddenly, she ran to him, and threw her arms round him, their lips meeting as Ron turned a delicate shade of Weasley red.

Minerva and Kingsley laughed as the event ended, still after all that had happened it took quite a while before the hall had cleared and they finally left the hall. They would not be leaving on Honeymoon until the next day, after another ceremony took place.

Shortly after breakfast the following morning, Harry and Ginny were led to the Elf quarters, behind the kitchens in the school by a nervous, but very excited and happy Kreacher. They walked through the kitchens, where a few Elves were finishing tidying up the remains of the meal from the duplicate tables of the ones in the great Hall, and quickly ensuring all was cleaned, then put away.

The two professors were both in their dress robes, as they had been for the headmistress' wedding the day before. They had told Kreacher that if they could wear them for that event, then it was only right to wear them today, he had been overwhelmed that they thought it fitting to dress up so well for this. Passing the fire place in the room, Harry remembered a drunken Winky some years before, curled up in front of it, the other Elves covering her, ashamed that he and his friends should see her in such a state. He was glad the Elf had recovered from her depression now and knew that first Dobby, then Kreacher had helped her get over the trauma of being forcibly freed by her previous Master, an event that had wrenched her life from her as far as she was concerned at the time and for quite a while afterwards. In fact it had only been after she had heard her Master's son's confession, just before he had been kissed by a Dementor, that Dobby had been able to get past her self imposed shell to even a small extent and help her to begin the path to recovery that had led to this day.

Kreacher paused at the door at the far end of the kitchen and looked at his Master and Mistress.

"It's all right, Kreacher." Harry reassured his nervous house Elf. "We are ready if you are."

"But, Master, you is most certainly over dressed, this is only an Elf bonding nothing special." Trying once more to convince them that although he was actually quite proud that they had, they really needn't have bothered.

He knew the other Elves as well as any Wizards would find it very strange that they had dressed up for his wedding and didn't want anyone saying anything bad about his Master and Mistress. For his Master and Mistress to bother quite so much about making it a special day for him was unusual, but he knew they had beliefs that were different to those most Elves were used to. Kreacher appreciated that they wanted to make the day special, that they saw dressing in such a fine manner was paying him much respect, but he also knew that simply because it was so unusual others may not appreciate what they were doing. He did not want to be the cause of them suffering ridicule because of it, he would be failing in his duty to them, if he did not keep trying to persuade them to dress down somewhat and he would never knowingly allow himself to let them down. They had shown more faith in him than anyone else ever had, even the Blacks, though he would never admit it to anyone else, it would be disloyal to do so. He had loathed the years alone in the house with only portraits for company, he knew it had affected him badly, then his Master had returned, he had never understood Master Sirius. He had seen the way the man had hurt his family, not just by leaving, but betraying them as well and he could never forgive him for doing that, it was so far against his own beliefs. He had felt his Master die, but had not expected to be inherited by Master. He had, at first, resented it, but as he had got to know him, seen his concern for those beneath him and respect for the house of Blacks property that he had inherited that slowly changed. He had begun, against his better judgement, to like his new Master. Then his Master had fulfilled the promise Kreacher had made to Master Regulus, destroyed the evil locket, where Kreacher could not. That act alone had sealed his loyalty to Harry and Kreacher had benefited from having a Master again. He took a pride in his appearance, the madness from the lack of living magic to sustain him in the years alone had now gone, he once again had a reason to live and had found Winky as a result. Although he would never say a word against the Blacks, well perhaps Sirius, he had to admit, he had never been happier.

Ginny smiled kindly to him. "Kreacher, I know you are worried about what others may think, but you are important to us, which means your happiness is too. This is your wedding and just like we dressed up for yesterday, we wanted to do the same today, to show how important a day it is to us as well as you. We also want everyone to know just how much you mean to us, it shows our respect for you and Winky as well."

Kreacher's eyes widened. "But, I and Winky are only Elves, not important folk like the Headmistress and Minister."

"You are to us, Kreacher, as part of our family you are both very important to us." Harry reassured the Elf, then with a glint in his eye he added. "Now, shall we go in, or shall we go get changed into our robes and honours, to make it really special." He teased.

Kreacher nodded, he would not try any further. "No Master Harry, that won't be necessary." He grinned, knowing that his Master was joking with him, but he would not push any further. "Lets go in." He said, tears of pride that his master and mistress would do such a thing for him, glistening in his large round eyes.

Not knowing what else he could say, but grinning madly, he pushed open the door.

The room beyond was full of Elves, who turned and watched, as the trio walked to the centre of the room where a space had been left for the ceremony itself. They spotted that a few stacks of flat boxes lined the wall at opposite end of the room to the door, behind the Elves. They had been followed by the remaining Elves from the kitchens, so all the Hogwarts Elves would be present for the bonding. Once the three of them reached their places, they turned to face the way they had come, just as the door opened again, revealing Winky, Minerva and Kingsley, who made their way towards Harry, Ginny and Kreacher, the two humans in their dress robes just as Harry and Ginny were. Only Minerva and Winky entered the central area of clear space encircled by the Elves, Kingsley was not involved in the ceremony, not being part of the school, so made his way to the side of the room, from where he would watch. The path from the door filled with Elves behind Minerva and Winky as they reach their places and the room fell silent. Minerva had briefed Harry and Ginny on what they must do, the formalities they must fulfil, being the owners of the male Elf meant that Harry would be the one who broke the silence and began the ceremony.

The moment all was ready, Harry took a deep breath and began."Headmistress, our Elves wish to wed, we are agreeable to this bond and as custom dictates, are willing to accept your female Elf into our household. We have brought the price agreed between us as compensation to your house, this house." He indicated the stack of boxes by the wall. "We hope this is still acceptable to you and all is in place to allow the bonding."

Minerva looked at the boxes, as was required, then responded. "I too, find such a bond between our Elves acceptable, the compensation we agreed being adequate and present, I agree with the bond and give over the Elf Winky to your family."

Both Elves bowed to Minerva, then Harry and Ginny, finally bowing once more to the Headmistress. When they rose, there was a flash of yellow light, and the boxes disappeared. A second later, the boxes reappeared stacked at the end of the room behind Minerva, showing they had been transferred to the schools ownership. Winky and Kreacher then approached Harry and Ginny, who knelt in front of the two Elves. They both placed a hand on Winky's head and a warm glow surrounded the three of them, as the transfer of the bond of all House Elves completed. Their part in the proceedings over, the humans then withdrew to the back of the room, while the Elves conducted the wedding of two of their kind.

It was a ceremony only Minerva had seen before, between Hogwarts Elves, so they watched in interest as Kreacher and Winky joined hands. The other Elves then began a droning hum, a sound not unlike the bass drone of correctly played bagpipes that filled the room, vibrating the air. The two Elves glowed as the drone intensified, the colour changed from the gold of the bonding to a master, to a watery silver growing to white silver, as the volume of the humming Elves grew. Suddenly, with a pop, the glow disappeared and the Elves stopped the melodic drone, the silence was deafening for several moments, then every Elf leapt into the air cheering.

The boxes disappeared again and a series of banging noises came from the direction of three doors at the other end of the room they were in, the Elves looking at each other in puzzlement, they had not been told what price had been paid for Winky. Kreacher and Winky slowly made their way to one of the doors and waited for the noise of banging and scraping to cease.

When it had, the two Elves flung open the door. "Elves of Hogwarts." Kreacher called out loudly, drawing everyone's attention. "To mark our wedding, our master and mistress have given the school sufficient beds for you all to have one each, this was agreed with the headmistress of Hogwarts. I know they hope this is an improvement for you all, fit for fellow veterans and of the? battle that defeated the dark one here in the school, their successors and descendants."

The Hogwarts Elves all looked wide eyed in amazement as they streamed into the room, soon crowding back out to thank the humans for such a generous gift, before streaming through the next door, then the last and coming back out to thank them once again, many with tears of happiness in their eyes. They were amazed the headmistress had allowed the Elf price to benefit them and was so generous, rather than benefiting the young masters and mistress's as other Heads had done in the past on the few occasions it had been necessary. The Elves eagerly ushered the humans through the first door, so that they could see the new beds.

The room was very large and beds lined the walls, more were arranged in two rows down the middle creating aisles between them, there were more than sixty beds in this room alone. This room was for the single male Elves, they were told. The door next to it led to the female Elves' room where a similar number of beds were arranged in the same manner. They then led them through the third door into a corridor, from which access to the rooms for married Elves and Elf families was given, at the far end was a nursery where Elf children could be looked after while their parents worked. Each and every Elf had received a new bed, thanks to the union of Kreacher and Winky and every Hogwarts Elf was grateful.

The ceremony over, The Elves were returning to their duties in the kitchens, to prepare lunch for the students and staff, or elsewhere in the castle. Kreacher and Winky escorted the humans back up to the entrance hall of the castle in time for Minerva and Kingsley to leave for a weeks honeymoon, Filius would be acting head while they were away and Arthur would be standing in for the minister, though there was very little planned out of the ordinary at the Ministry in the next seven days. The whole school staff were present, to wave them off in one of the school carriages which would take them into the village, from where they would Floo to begin their honeymoon. Once the Thestral hauled coach had disappeared, the staff turned and walked into the Great Hall, Filius, led the way, though although he was acting head, he took his usual seat at the staff table, leaving the central throne like chair vacant.

The newly married Elves had refused all offers of even having the afternoon off, instead insisting they serve Harry and Ginny their meal. So it was, that the two Elves proudly brought the plates of food to the couple, side by side, much to the amusement of the rest of the staff and those students who noticed.

Filius and Horace were sat next to each other at the table talking about the events of the last two day's as only confirmed bachelors could.

"Two weddings in two days, not a common thing at Hogwarts." Filius observed sagely.

Horace nodded agreement. "True Filius old chap, we seem to live in romantic times."

Filius smiled. "Indeed! Mind you I always love a good wedding."

"As do I old chap, as do I." Horace agreed wistfully, then grinned. "So long as it's somebody else's of course." He chuckled.

"Oh of course." Filius laughed.

Petunia, sat next to Horace rolled her eyes. "Men!" She chuckled, used to her two colleagues gentle teasing.

Peeves had not been seen about the school since the spirit of the Lady Frayja had disappeared and he had suddenly departed, but then neither had the Bloody Baron, Grawp, or the Grey Lady for that matter. For now few had noticed, yet one who had would have probably have shocked most, if they had paid him any mind as well. Argus Filch had noticed the look on the face of the Poltergeist just before it had fled, it was a look he had seen on the spirit before, more often than Peeves would admit it had been, but the caretaker knew that look and it worried him each time he saw it. Despite the long running feud between the two, Argus was in fact quite fond of the mischievous spirit, perhaps not many of his antic's, but certainly the being itself. That was not to say he would be taking Peeves out for a friendly drink anytime soon, if ever, but he did miss his presence. Argus had spent much of the day looking for his nemesis, worried by what he had seen, knowing why the tears had been spilt and what that meant. Despite everything, he needed to know that Peeves was alright, he could not imagine life at Hogwarts without the noisy ghost and was determined to find him, to make sure all was well.

* * *

 **10** **th** **Century:**

Fryga and her two sons had settled well into life in Hogsmeade, in the weeks since their arrival. They had been eagerly taken into their household by Orin's family, she may not be magical herself, but that wasn't her fault as far as they were concerned. Orin and his brother never worried about such things, all that mattered was she was loyal to Utred and that he had welcomed her back into the protection from which she had been ripped by Styr all those years before. The three of them had quickly settled into the household, helping with the chores and rapidly becoming a comfortable part of the family, to those who did not know them they appeared to have been there as long as anyone, they fit in so well.

Orin's nephew, who now made the wands, albeit under his fathers watchful eye, was widowed. His wife had died, giving birth to their only child who had not survived either, had particularly taken an interest in Fryga and she in him. They were growing closer by the day it seemed, much to the rest of the families delight. Whilst her youngest son played with his sister's children, her eldest was fascinated with the craft of wand making. Orin had told Utred a few days after she moved in, that his family all felt it was now complete with the arrival of Fryga. Utred was glad she had found happiness, they could all do with it, as the signs of coming battle grew.

Over the days and weeks into late autumn, more and more men arrived, the Chiefs who led them erecting tents to house themselves and their advisers in the school grounds, their men setting up camp in the flat lands that weren't forested, surrounding the village, below the mountains. A thick layer of smoke rose above them Wizards arrived from Godric's Hollow as well as a few with the Chiefs. Eventually, ten thousand fighting men had been gathered and still more were expected after winter from the low lands and from the far north. They were all bringing their own supplies, knowing they were potentially in for a long wait, they did not know when the Northumbrians would make their move, the Magicals would return them home for the winter if they were not needed. It was highly unlikely that there would be an attack in the harsh, cold season, but they would all be brought back as soon as Spring arrived, leaving only a core of men here to advise the King. They would be a formidable army, though they knew Styr could draw on a much larger force of Northumbrians if he wished, though that would leave the country practically undefended, vulnerable to attack, which meant Styr would not want to be absent for long. Far better for him if he could move swiftly to invade, capture what he needed and return to his kingdom as quickly as he could to protect it's borders. Such considerations were of no concern to those gathering on Gryffindor's lands, they were not about to make things too easy for the usurper, once he crossed the wall. In the mean time, the spies that were already in place, both in, would continue to report.

The Creaftas, Ulf, Erik and Orin sat behind Utred, they were his advisers for the King's court. Godric had the other three founders and a man from the village behind him, he and Utred sat in places of importance as lords resident on these lands, as well as representing the Magical community. Whilst there were others from elsewhere in Scotland yet to arrive, all the lands of that country that were ruled over by King Constantine were represented by the relevant chief, supported by their most trusted men. Some even had wizards with them, which helped in ensuring that the men were kept warm in the tents on the increasingly cold nights, through the use of magic. Both Wizard and non magical alike were completely stunned by the venue they found themselves in for the council, which pleased Constantine no end, it had after all been his intent. The Great Hall was out of bounds to students today, to allow the King's council to take place in it, those men who had not seen it before were still looking about them, many trying to work out if they were inside, or out. The King sat where the staff table was usually placed, the rest of the tables and benches had been pushed to the sides of the hall allowing space for the council. The seats had been arranged in two circles, the Chiefs on the inner, with their advisers seats behind, leaving the centre free for those who wished to make representations to the King to approach. Godric, as host, sat to the King's right, Utred as the only other Lord in residence sat to his left; all three had their main advisers sat immediately behind them where they could speak with each other without disturbing proceedings before one of them would whisper in their Lord's ear the advice they collectively gave. The group on the dais was impressive, dressed in their finest, displaying their wealth, as they looked out at the gathered Chiefs who had, so far, brought men. Although the council would deal with any disputes between the chiefs as well as other matters such a council would deal with, they had begun with reports from the enemy territory. The King called them all to order, then waited for silence before starting the council, calling forward two men from behind the dais, their faces were hidden by hoods, none but those on the platform could see who they were. They were spies, one from Jorvik, the other from Wessex, both were here to deliver their latest report.

The first to report was one of Tigelwotta's team in Northumbria. "Styr has begun to distance himself from Hrothweard in some ways, not enough to be actually seen to be acting against the archbishop, but enough that he recently started his quarterly council meeting in his absence. Knowing the churchman's predilection for making an entrance, usually late, the Usurper decide to enforce protocol to the letter for the first time with him." The Jorvik spy informed them. "The body of St. Cuthbert is to be moved from the crypt at Onripum to the purpose built shrine at Dunholm as soon as is practical, travelling from church to church on it's route to arrive in early spring at the latest. The Fyrd of Northumbria has been summoned by Styr to provide the guard. Wessex has ordered Hrothweard to accept Styr's men and place his own at the King's disposal for the duration of the procession and ceremony."

Constantine nodded. "Styr got his offer to Wessex first then, is Wessex sending men as well?" he asked, turning to the other figure.

The other spy shook his head. "No, not for this, they view this as a purely Northumbrian matter. I believe they see it as a win, win for them sire. If Styr's men succeeded in transporting the dead saint again, then the church has gained a new strength in Northumbria, if they are attacked and fail, then Wessex will have reason to march north and remove both Styr and the Archbishop for their failure. Wessex is preparing men to march north in the spring, they aim to take Jorvik while Styr is distracted with his task and us. They plan to tell Hrothweard to offer the church's army for the defence of the city, as would be usual, whilst the King leads his men From Dunholm. There being nothing unusual in the offer, they see no reason for Styr to refuse the offer, but they will not know of his treatment of Hrothweard yet."

Godric leant over and addressed the King in the low murmur, the King nodded, then asked. "Your reports are useful as always, our thanks for the briefing you have given us both here and privately earlier. From them, it seems clear that the puppet King of Jorvik is to be replaced with the help of those kingdoms under Wessex, though does not yet know it. He has already lost Northumbria, his outburst will not have helped, but he clearly believes he has a position of strength. You have confirmed the intelligence we had word of and brought news which we needed. However, my friend Lord Gryffindor asks if there is any news of a family lately of Hogsmeade, last heard of leaving Jorvik for the south. What can you tell us of the Durslieg's?"

The spy from Wessex smiled. "After leaving Jorvik, they were escorted south over land, word had spread of their demeanor so no ship captain in the city would take them. They entered the court of the King of Wessex and they quickly believed they had found favour, through the Archbishop, with him. They believe they were rewarded, as promised before leaving Jorvik, for their story, but it was a ruse. Within hours of arriving the King decided he had suffered them enough, so left it to his chaplain to dispatch them the moment they were rested sufficiently to travel on to their new lands. They have received a hall and farmstead with a small village in the south near the River Severn. It is on land that had been given to the church as part of Tax from the neighbouring Lord, it has now been named after the family by the King as a new settlement. The elder Durslieg has become Lord Durslieg of Durslieg as a result, he has some half dozen households on his land and will be able to make a living from the land, though he will not become too wealthy, he is still an outsider after all. It is certain that they betrayed the name of the village next to this castle to Styr and to Wessex, though were unable to give an accurate location. Wessex has given orders that they are not to be admitted to the court, except for Witan when called. "

Godric sighed. " At least they can settle now, I hope they will more than they ever did here, a shame they told that much, but not unexpected if we are honest. Styr is one of us and has a number of Wizards in his guard, as well as Muggle sworn men. He, or one of his Wizards, could find us and lead his Army here, using Magical methods and senses, though the wards here might prevent them from direct attack, they could find the location and lay siege to it."

"If he did then he would win favour in the church, who almost certainly would give him more men to take these lands north of the wall, giving him or rather them, further power with which to control any King. It would gain the Usurper favour with them, without doubt." The spy from Jorvik observed. "Though not enough to give him the throne he desires, he is not descended from Alfred and that is what the church favours. The church wish to fulfil the old King's dream, Styr's brother threatened Wessex, simply by not playing their games, as a result and due to lack of diligence in watching for signs of betrayal, he lost his life and the throne to Styr. His brother tolerated wizard kind, not just allowing them to settle peacefully, but also keeping their secret, his brother and nephew's secret, from the church. Styr used that and has sought favour with the church, despite his nature, the Christians supported his brother's murder, by eliminating any magical people who were not in his circle, or who he could not control since that day. Lately, he has betrayed those who were unable to pay him what he wanted and demanded. He believes that claiming to have discovered them each time, gains him favour with the King makers of the church and probably sees winning this place as ensuring that he is given Englaland's throne, if he can give the castle to the church. His son, Thorfin, now carries out the actual murders Styr orders, neither can see that no matter what they do, the Bishops will never support their claim and are simply using them, biding their time until the time is right to remove the throne of Northumbria. Styr believes he can out manoeuvrer the master politicians of the church, it is a belief they probably encourage, for now. They have churches and Clergy in every town and almost every village south of the wall, a massive network of communication, yes most are out for what they can get, which means they take advantage of their position in every way possible, but that in turn means they feed what they find out and observe up the chain. Although there are exceptions, the Clergy of Dunholm have no love for Hrothweard for example, yet they will all unite for the good of their church. So they can out manoeuvre Styr before he has decided what he wants to do in most instances, usually they can manipulate the situation and him, they have to be masters at the political game to climb the ladder over their peers, to them Styr is generally easy to keep in line. He is the ideal puppet for them in many ways, but the signs are he is outliving his usefulness to them. To be clear, Styr wants the throne Alfred desired, he thinks this is how he will get it, it is the representatives of the nailed God who will not allow it and if encouraging him North of the wall gets rid of him they will ensure it happens. They hold the power in the south, not the Lords, who beyond the wall each owe their status to the church, every man owes his service to it according to their holy book, loyalty must be given to them, not earned by a Lord in battle. We shall be enabling these Christian Wizards without magic to gain what they want, if we defeat Styr, he is just too stupid to see it so will blunder on blindly. What ever he decides to do now, he will bring us to war with him, he is already preparing to send a small advance party to try and find this place before Winter comes, it will be led by his son."

Utred grinned. "Your Majesty, we were aware of many of the usurpers activities as well as those of his son, our people have been rescuing many of their intended victims and resettling as many as possible to safe locations. We do have a new team keeping an eye on Thorfin and his activities, as well as other operatives in Northumbria. The new team will intervene where necessary and have ways of summoning emergency evacuation methods where necessary without being noticed."

Constantine grinned. "Thank you Lord Utred. As Styr will not be able to act fully until the spring, can we link my agents with yours to pool resources?"

Both Utred and Godric grinned and nodded.

Constantine grinned even more. "Then we should also have a bit of fun with this advanced party of his, once it arrives over the wall."

The two spies were dismissed to rest before they returned to their duty, the council moved on to other matters, as the first of the chiefs stepped forward to report on the state of his men. If the length of time he took to carefully describe how his men were all fit and ready was anything to go by, then it would be a long, dull evening. Each of the chief's in turn would have to stand and report, at least until Constantine got bored and ordered that they moved to look at disputes, or started drinking contests. The latter would happen sooner or later anyway, an inevitable consequence of the meeting, the barrels of ale had just appeared at the side of the room.

* * *

While the council of the King was taking place at the school, one of the subjects of discussion in Northumbria, Thorfin, was in fact leading a group of his father's men to a quiet, lonely farmstead next to the Hverfr River to the west of Jorvik near Táda. They had received word from the archbishop that he suspected the occupants were all pagans, who pretended to be faithful Christians and practised magic, in other words they had not paid he church enough tax this year. King Styr, of course, knew that the family were magical, so Hrothweard's blinkered, ill informed excuse was in fact the case, not that that mattered to him. Even though the family, who scraped a living farming and making baskets, were not in his inner circle, they had paid him well for his protection without question in the past, until this year at least. The church were not the only ones they had not paid, so he felt no need to protect them. Even so, Styr had not wanted to act, seeing this as a distraction from the main target he wanted to concentrate on, but as the family had ceased to pay him as much as he wanted from them and had now drawn the wrath of the church as well. They had now drawn too much attention on themselves to ignore, action had to be seen to be taken. Although they were no threat to him, he could see no reason to deny the archbishop or take the trouble to argue their case for survival, they were not useful enough to out weigh the threat they now posed having now come under the scrutiny of the church. Styr had, had no choice, so had sent his son to lead a raid on the property and claim it for the church, after taking anything of value for his own use of course, they were bound to have gold or heirlooms hidden somewhere.

Since Thorfin's mother had died last winter and Styr had been able to include him in raids without her objection, the boy had become skilled at such attacks, if somewhat overly brutal even for his father's tastes. The boy had been on fifty such raids over the last few months and had honed his skill on the flesh of those the two deemed Blood traitors or a threat. All their victims were essentially powerless, yet Thorfin seemed to relish each one with a brutality that would be useful in battle, if he could be controlled. That was a large question over the boy, Thorfin took an unnatural pleasure in inflicting pain, a joy that removed any thought that the target was in any way human. Hall burnings were a favourite of his, he delighted in the screams of the victims within, he enjoyed seeing them trying to flee, only for he and his men to trap them. Thorfin had created a team around him, both Magical and Muggle, all utterly loyal to him because he gave them what they wanted. Not just a share of the wealth of their victims, but a way to sate their blood lust. Each and every one of the team shared his enjoyment of creating and inflicting pain, they flourished on the power they had over their victims, had a flair for punishing others, they were building a reputation of fear. Styr enjoyed their efficiency, yet he knew this was all a cover, especially in his son. None of them had yet been in battle and he could see that Thorfin's bravado over those powerless to fight back, could easily crumble against any who could effectively fight back. He was happy to use his son's team as enforcers, to intimidate those who offended him, or caused him a weakness with the church, he hoped in time these tasks would increase their courage, making them useful in battle as well. Soon his son would be tested, his team of enforcers, along with others would be sent north of the wall, he needed them to find the route to the castle where his mentor lived and he needed to know soon. They would be sent ahead to make significant progress before winter closed in, but first he had to get them to deal with the Symonite's.

The valley below Thorfin and his men was a broad, shallow, fertile flood plain with the Hverfr River snaking in from the distance through it, ideal for the small farmstead. The banks of the river close to the farm were blurred with reed-filled marshland and coppiced willow trees, the uncultivated areas of the valley were lush with wild vegetation and trees. Although the first frosts had yet to appear, the leaves on the trees across the Vale were a fiery mix of yellows, oranges and reds, but had yet to begin to fall as the plants headed towards their inevitable winter hibernation and the nights drew in, shortening the hours of daylight. The land between the gentle slopes of woodland, in which they sat watching and the river was clearly good fertile land, recently harvested bare fields near the isolated house awaited preparation for the winter alongside fields of good grazing for animals ,between early spring and late autumn at least. The harvested crop was either stored or sold and there were now just a few sheep cattle and goats, where a month ago the fields would have been full of both crops and animals depending on the use they had been put to. The few remaining beasts would be intended either be eaten during the winter, or kept as breeding stock for the following spring, to produce stock to sell next year. The fields divided by post and rail fences, made simply of split logs from the surrounding forests held together with rope bindings and hand smithed nails, created a network across the flood plain.

The house itself was a long house of old wattle and daub construction, though mounted on thick stilts to keep it above flood waters, steps up to a jetty type walkway led away from the door to a track to the rough road which led out of the valley to Táda in one direction and back to Jorvik in the other. The house and small out buildings were each topped with a thatched roof of reeds from the wetlands near the river. The thatch was old enough that wildlife nested in it, and a few plants had taken root, but not so old it needed replacing yet. The area behind the house held a pen, where two pigs nosed the ground, and chickens scratched the ground outside the pen, while further from the house was the rubbish pit, next to the Cess pit which had fresh damp moss draped over the woven hurdles that surrounded it. The out buildings were slightly higher up the slope away from the river and looked like stores for tools or crops. There were a few visible signs that the family had begun cutting the willow, ready for weaving over the Winter when it was harder to work the land. To the side of the house that Thorfin and his men could see were two long trenches had been dug and filled with water; bundles of fresh cut willow withies had been placed in them to keep them supple for basket weaving; stacks of the completed wares were stacked carefully beneath the overhanging rafters awaiting transport the markets, either in Jorvik or in Táda where they would be sold. Next to them, a stack of cut logs for fuel had been placed, piled up to the level of the window, which had been fitted with its wooden shutter to keep out the worst of the coming winter wind and freezing temperatures. A line of woven straw Skeps sat on simple benches a few yards from the end of the walk way, the bees that lived in them still buzzing in the unseasonably mild weather, though there were precious few flowers left about for them to gather nectar from. A well worn dirt path led between frames of drying fish and meat, awaiting movement into the house's rafters for long term storage ready to eat in the lean winter months. A short wooden jetty that jutted out into the river, where a small boat containing nets was moored there awaiting use. A few of the brown fleeced sheep with the small cattle still on the farm, wandered down to the shallows close to the Jetty to drink before they would be taken in for the night.

The small group of men commanded by Thorfin had spent the last couple of hours watching the family's activities, since their arrival in the forest during the afternoon. They were watching as the man and his two sons, one about eleven the other a little younger, tended the few animals in the fields and carried out a multitude of small tasks about the property that were clearly required, though were a mystery to Thorfin. The woman of the house and the daughter stayed near the house, the young girl keeping her drop spindle spinning, efficiently converting the already combed rollags of fleece gathered from the family flock, into thread ready for dyeing in preparation to be woven, whilst her mother carried out her daily chores. Late in the afternoon, as the sun began to set, a large bird flew in from the north and entered the house. Thorfin guessed it was the family owl returning from hunting or a delivery, he wondered if it had carried a message to or from another blood traitor, it was a possibility, though he would likely never know. A few minutes later, the woman sent the girl to fetch her father and brothers from the fields. She helped them drive their few sheep and head of cattle back to the house and in through the doors at the back, into the area where the beasts would spend the night. They secured the beasts, then the two youngest rounded up the half-dozen hens and the family cockerel into the house, whilst the others drove the pigs in and gathered in the baskets. It seemed that they were going through their end of day routine as usual, there was no sign that they suspected anything was out of the ordinary. Thorfin and his men stayed out of sight in the trees, watching the now peaceful valley, waiting for the sun to completely set behind the house they were watching, the light from the orange orb blocking out the brief blue glow that originated inside the building from their view.

It wasn't too long before the last of the bright orange glow from the sun had disappeared behind the horizon and darkness fell over the farmstead, which they could see from the glow of the fire inside highlighting the gaps in the walls, windows and door ways.

The men waited in the woods, darkness had long since fallen and the temperature with it, but still they waited as long as they dared. As soon as they were sure that the family would be asleep and that no one else would appear, fearing to stay in the woods for too long, in case the Sceadugengan found them, Thorfin ordered them to close in on the house. There had been no sign of movement at the house, since the family had entered the building, though they still had the flickering orange glow inside, from the fire showing through the gaps to guide them to their target. Drawing weapons and oil soaked, unlit, torches, they moved stealthily, silently in the dark, thankful for the blanket of cloud blocking the moon and stars, making it less likely they would be spotted as they made their way from the cover of the trees. They noise of the river would mask some noise, but they still needed to be careful not to disturb any wildlife, which would noisily raise the alarm as it fled them. They successfully reached the house, which was still silent and their movement seemed completely undetected from within, just as expected and they had done on many occasions at other properties. Thorfin and his men knelt behind one of the outbuildings, one of the men, a Muggle, produced a flint and steel with which he lit one of the torches. They always lit them with this method rather than Magic, some of the men were true Christians, the wizards among them did not want to test if their loyalty to the church was stronger than it was to Thorfin or Styr, so did not risk Magic in front of them. Besides, even the Magicals found this was such a more satisfying method of destroying property, than the speed, fierceness and ease of using Fiend fire, by comparison this, the muggle way, was much more satisfying. This way it did not spread so quickly that there were no screams of animals and humans suffering from within as the flames caressed the building, the magical fire almost instantly ripped through the timbers with ferocity and haste, killing all inside before they knew what was happening. The flame of the torch quickly rose, fuelled by the oil and Thorfin took it before using the flame to ignite the other torches held by those either side of him; they in turn passed the flame on. Within seconds all the men held lit torches, flames leaping into the night. They moved quickly, though still stealthily, to surround the house, then thrust the torches into the roof, instantly setting light to the thatch of the house, leaving them deep in the reeds, ensuring the flames would not go out. They stayed in position, waiting and watching as the fire grew and for the family to rush out to tackle the blaze, or at least try to escape the building inferno. The moment they emerged, as all the others in the past had done, his men been ordered to stop them and throw them back into the flames to burn, a task they all relished and hoped for. Thorfin and his well practised men would only put them to the sword if they were on fire and so could not be picked up to be tossed back, not through any concern other than they did not want the fire catching on their clothes.

The flames spread quickly, and grew quickly on the old thatch; alarmed birds flew swiftly to find new roosts, mice, rats and squirrels leaping from the roof in an effort to flee, yet still there was no sign of life from inside. The fire steadily grew in intensity, accompanied by a roar, sounding and looking like a group of enraged dragons, as they rose, climbing into the night, destroying the darkness, but still no other sound came from within. The minutes passed, the men stepped back from the increasing heat, but still watchful, growing puzzled that the only sound was coming from the fire, there was not even the sound of distressed animals panicking under the burning roof. More time went by, the men were looking at each other puzzled, there were no signs of anything or anyone trying to escape, nothing but the crackling of burning timbers, flames, smoke and embers rising into the night sky. They were beginning to look at each other for an answer, there should have been something, but since the wildlife had scattered, there was no sign of movement from any living thing in the inferno in front of them.

Time passed, the roof collapsed between the walls, which now started to crack and burn, guaranteeing that nothing inside could possibly be alive for much longer long, there was no sound of human or animal in pain. It was unnatural, surely nothing could sleep peacefully through the torture of being burned alive. Yet, although they had seen the family enter and they knew they had not seen them leave, they could not explain the inhuman lack of any reaction from them to their manner of death. Thorfin was at a loss to explain the complete absence of any of the usual responses to victims of a hall burning, it was, he felt, quite disappointing, an anticlimax, but he knew the family had been Magical, they could have protected themselves and their animals by those means, so he continued to watch, looking for any sign that they had done so.

"My lord!" One of his men approached.

"What is it?" Thorfin snapped, angered at the absence of evidence of suffering that should have been caused and he enjoyed seeing on these occasions.

"The smell my lord." The man replied.

Thorfin nearly drew his sword on the man who appeared to have developed a cowardly aversion to the smell of wood smoke, but it didn't seem right, this was one of his most trusted men. He had been present at many Hall burnings with him, there was no way his stomach could suddenly be so weak for the task, not this man who he had seen show no mercy to any that tried to flee. His hand moved back from the hilt of his sword as he pondered what the man had said, was there something wrong with the smell of the Hall burning in front of them? He looked round the yard as he considered, then he saw it, surprised he had not noticed before. The bee Skeps were no longer on their platforms, they had gone, simply vanished, his mind suddenly caught up with what the man was saying. Yes the smell that hung in the air was wrong, certainly there was the bitter scent of burning wood, even the slight tang of charring horn, but the sweet aroma of cooking and burning meat of any kind was absent. There was no flesh in the inferno that engulfed the house, nothing animal or human to give off the distinctive aroma that spoke of the complete destruction of another family. He knew there were ways the family might have avoided the flames, port key or apparition perhaps? He dismissed those almost instantly, they couldn't have transported the animals with either of those, so as far as he knew at least, so he was left with some sort of protection charm. It was the only way there could possibly appear to have been no one inside that house, when they set it alight.

He turned to the man, knowing him to be one of the true Christians. "Keep watching, the church claimed they were witches, if so then this may be a trick." He instructed, hoping his guess was right, in which case the family would be evident, eventually.

The man's eyes widened, he crossed himself then nodded, returning to his post.

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The bright blue flash near the lodge by the lake faded to reveal a family, together with a collection of domestic animals and a Creafta's Lady, that had not been there before, stood in the light of the setting sun. Above them was a large brown bird, from a distance it could easily have been mistaken for an owl, but it's task done it slowly changed colour, transforming itself, revealing a Phoenix. Flame shed her disguise, which she had allowed to be applied to her on each of these rescue missions, then flew to the castle. Frayja had departed the school less than an hour before, to inform a family of their son's acceptance at the school and had entered the property, under a notice-me-not charm. She had noticed the men hiding in the trees, recognising Thorfin, she had quickly changed the plan, explained it all quickly to the mother and summoned the Phoenix to join her urgently, which the bird had done, flashing to the forest, then flying to the house giving the appearance of a messenger owl. Once the family were gathered together and all their animals were inside the house, Frayja had told them of the men hidden in the trees and who they were. The family had not seem surprised at this news, they had not paid Styr as much as they had previously this year and he knew what they were. They had hoped he would be understanding that their produce had not generated as much as in previous year and dismiss the shortfall and them as unimportant. Clearly, with Thorfin and his men hidden in the trees, this had been a forlorn hope. The family had quickly agreed to her offer to take them all to the school, Flame had transferred them with their bees from outside, animals and the baskets to trade, the moment they were ready, leaving the house where it was, only transferring the living and their produce from inside with whatever they could carry.

"Welcome to Hogwarts castle." Frayja grinned., she was the first of the group to recover having experienced the instant transportation of Phoenix travel before.

Godiva had been waiting for Frayja to return with the boy, but had realised the family must have been in danger if her friend had brought them all. She walked over towards the group, she knew Flame would bring others from the castle to assist. "You are safe now." She assured the family as she reached them. "We had better get the beasts put with the others here, before they recover enough to start wandering. Oi, you lot!" She called spotting some likely assistance.

The group of men at a nearby tent, who were looking open mouthed at the new arrivals, suddenly reacted in surprise to Godiva's shout, she laughed at their response. "Put these sheep in with the others and the cattle in that area for us, while I take the Symonite's to see Godric and see what's happened to our helpers, will you?" She instructed. "Leave the bees where they are, we shall move it all and the Skeps later, once they are settled again after dark and less likely to attack us, we shall need to look at overwintering them with ours any day now anyway, someone will be here to collect the rest of the stuff in a minute."

The men nodded and began rounding up the animals whilst the family and two Creaftas ladies walked through the camp to the castle, constantly reassuring the family, who were more than awed by the building before them.

* * *

When, eventually, dawn broke over the still smouldering Northumbrian house, with no sign of the family in the remains,Thorfin ordered his men to search the cinders for evidence of the occupants, charred bone or teeth would be normal. If they could find the bones in the end of the hall the family used, well so much the better, but he did not hold out much hope. They searched the hot embers, timbers and ashes, finding nothing they could identify as being from man or beast in the remains at all. No pots, loom weights, valuables, or any bones not even from meat hung to dry, it was as if the house had not been occupied at all, almost as if they had burned a building that was not just abandoned, but had never been used by anyone since it had been built. The family, who they had seen enter the house, their possessions and animals, even the owl that had arrived as they prepared to attack, had all simply vanished into thin air. Thorfin decided that, given the chance, the next targets would be put to the sword before the fire was set, which meant that they would suffer less. He and his men would still have some fun making them suffer, though not as much as hearing the screams in a burning building gave them, but it would at least ensure the traitors would be dead. He knew this was likely his last hall burning for some time, he gathered his men and horses, ready to ride to Onripum. He and his team would ride in honour, in their finery, flags and banners flying from there, days ahead of the coffin containing the long dead saint, to clear the way and order communities to make ready. Only then would he meet the other men, already going to Dunholm then head quickly north of the wall, to clear the route for the main army to follow in the spring.

* * *

With the help of the two Creaftas ladies, the Symonite family had soon calmed enough to eat and talk at length with Godric. The report from the family that Thorfin had tried to murder, removed any possible doubt at all that magical folk were being deliberately targeted on the orders of Styr. Godric contacted the village elders in Hogsmeade, the village lacked basket makers and was keen that the family be settled in the community. While he waited to see if a house could be provided for them, the family were settled in the castle for the night, waking next morning to join the occupants for breakfast. They joined Frayja and Godiva in the Great Hall who introduced them to the other Creaftas present and their ladies.

The older Symonite's remembered Utred and his father, they had travelled, separately, with their parents to Tang to trade, though being older than him, Utred did not remember them. He was glad, though, that they were relieved to find him alive as well as here stories of his father. They remembered him as a young child and had recognised his ability to heal himself so quickly even then as evidence that he was, in fact, magical. Both also also remembered Fryga from when she had purchased their families goods for use at Tang and were pleased to find that she was safe, and anticipated meeting her sons with excitement. The adult Symonite's had been trained in Wizardry by their own parents, but were interested to learn that it was their eldest son reaching eleven that had brought about the visit from the school. They would have gladly agreed to visit the new school, to give their child the chance to learn in safety, even before discovering Thorfin planned to attack that evening. They knew that by now their home, like the hall at Tang, would have been destroyed and as such they were only too pleased to have the chance to start again amongst a community of their own kind, where they would not be persecuted by those who feared them and their powers.

The news they had brought from their home near Jorvik confirmed the spies' report and added some detail to them, including information they had heard about the plans for transporting the dead saint across Northumbria to Durham safely. As the spies had told them, the numbers of guards were vastly larger than needed to move anything of importance across friendly country, so they guessed it was a cover to move men north. From this alone Constantine and his advisers knew that without doubt, they must prepare for war, they would start planning to ensure it was on their terms, not those of Styr. It was their best chance for the survival of their country and of Wizard kind, in the meantime they had their spies, so would watch and wait, learning as much as they could of their enemy before they crossed the wall. Only good things could come, if they simply watched and waited until the Northumbrians made their move, until the incursion into their lands began and they could guide them to their deaths.

Constantine was grateful to the family and showed it, promising they would have all the help they needed to settle in from his household. They were overjoyed when, at the end of breakfast, Orin arrived to take them to their new house, in the village.

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Authors Notes:  
Hope you enjoyed that one, next one up as soon as I can,real life (whatever that is) allowing. In the meantime I look forward to reading any reviews you might leave.  
Best wishes to you all.  
Until next time.  
Tgfoy

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Hverfr River: Norse name meaning winding river, which is an accurate description of this water course now called the River Wharfe.

Táda = Tadcaster.

Saint Cuthbert (c.634 – 20 March 687): Was a saint of the early Northumbrian church in the Celtic tradition. He was a monk, bishop and hermit, associated with the monasteries of Melrose and Lindisfarne in what might loosely be termed the Kingdom of Northumbria in the North of England. After his death he became one of the most important medieval saints of Northern England, with a cult centred on his tomb at Durham Cathedral. Cuthbert is regarded as the patron saint of northern England. His feast days are 20 March and 4 September.

Cuthbert grew up near Melrose Abbey, in Scotland. He had decided to become a monk after seeing a vision on the night in 651 that St. Aidan, the founder of Lindisfarne, died, but seems to have seen some military service first. He was quickly made guest-master at the new monastery at Ripon, soon after 655. About 662 he was made prior at Melrose, and around 665 went as prior to Lindisfarne. In 684 he was made bishop of Lindisfarne but by late 686 resigned. After Cuthbert's death, numerous miracles were attributed to his intercession and to intercessory prayer near his remains. In particular, Alfred the Great, King of Wessex, was inspired and encouraged in his struggle against the Danes by a vision or dream he had of Cuthbert. Thereafter the royal house of Wessex, who became the kings of England, made a point of devotion to Cuthbert, which also had a useful political message, as they came from opposite ends of the united English kingdom. Cuthbert was "a figure of reconciliation and a rallying point for the reformed identity of Northumbria and England." In 698 Cuthbert was reburied at Lindisfarne in the decorated oak coffin now usually meant by St Cuthbert's coffin, though he was to have many more coffins. In 995 the "community of Cuthbert" founded and settled at Durham, guided by what they thought was the will of the saint, as the wagon carrying his coffin back to Chester-le-Street after a temporary flight from a Danish invasion became stuck hard on the road. Cuthbert's cult had appealed to the converted Danes who now made up much of the population of Northumbria, and was also adopted by the Normans when they took over England. Cuthbert's shrine at Durham Cathedral was a major pilgrimage site throughout the Middle Ages, until stripped by Henry VIII's commissioners in the Dissolution of the Monasteries. his relics survived and are still interred at the site, although they were also disinterred in the 19th century, when his wooden coffin and various relics were removed. St Cuthbert's coffin (actually one of a series of several) as well as others remains, are still at the cathedral and is an important rare survival of Anglo-Saxon carving on wood. I use the movement of his remains to Durham in this story, changing it as being moved from Ripon to Durham, which never happened. So far as we know his body was never laid in the Saxon crypt at Ripon (which can be visited) at all, but it enabled me to give a reason for Styr to begin his journey north.

The damp moss at the Cess pit was used as toilet paper, due care would need to be taken against careless gathering of it meaning it may have contained any thorns. (Yes we do have Archaeological evidence for the use of the moss and it occasionally containing hidden thorns).

The keeping of bees seems to have been common place, honey being the only sweetener available and it has useful antiseptic properties, so was used in the healing of wounds. The tightly woven Skeps they were kept in enabled easy transportation if needed. Whilst we have found the remains of Skeps complete with 1000 year old dead bees, one aspect of bee keeping of the period is only known from Christian writings of the time, the use of bees in battle. These writings report that Skeps were sealed and thrown at an enemy, bursting open to release the angry bees to attack the enemy, causing panic and making it easier to overwhelm them.


	15. Tigelwotta

Disclaimer: As always, anything you recognise from the novels by J.K. Rowling belongs to her and I make no claim on it, anything else however is from my weird imagination.

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 **The 10th century section of this chapter contains a scene of a tenth century skirmish, including injuries, death and the aftermath, please remember that this story is rated M (mature) for a reason, also remember the additional warnings for the story at the start of Chapter one. From this chapter on the tenth century parts of the story will contain such scenes more frequently than they have so far.**

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 **Chapter 15.**

 **Tigelwotta.**

 **Late 10th Century.**

Autumn was steadily drawing to a close as the days shortened and the season of Yule drew closer. Although the snow that had fallen before the games had quickly cleared, the trees had lost their leaves a month earlier, the first frosts of the coming winter were already lightly crisping the mornings, but had melted by mid morning, Winter was not far away, but was yet to arrive. In every settlement across the land, people were preparing for the coming cold season, gathering and storing grain, fruit and vegetables, drying or smoking fish and meat. Men were hunting, or repairing their buildings or gathering wood, with their sons while the women prepared fleece for spinning by the girls, or dying already woven cloth, checking furs for beds, as well as ensuring all was stored properly in the house. Utred lay on the damp ground on the ridge, watching movement in the vale below, he shook his head and swore at the folly of those moving along it, knowing that soon his orders to attack them would need to be acted on, unless they turned back to rejoin the rest of the Northumbrian advance party. If they had to attack, their orders were no magic in the attack, they were to use Muggle methods only, the invaders were not to know they were up against Magic users, not before Styr and his army arrived at the battlefield at least. That was unlikely until the spring at the earliest, the group they were watching was merely a scouting party from the advance group sent to find the way, not the first sent out that had ventured too close to a settlement, nor the last in the days since they had come north of the wall.

Concealed on the ridge that enclosed three sides of the valley, near the village where they had spent the night once those they were tracking had made camp nearby, only a few miles north of the wall. They did not know it, but they had not progressed more than half a mile north in the last week, since they had travelled beyond sight of the long Roman structure. Through the attacks on the scouts as well as other more subtle methods The Scots had guided the Northumbrians first west, until they were almost in sight of that coast, now back to the East, parallel to the wall, which meant they had hardly made any progress North, but were unaware of it. Each of the Scots patrol had been amused to note that the messengers the Northumbrians sent back with reports, headed back along the track the entire group had taken, they couldn't believe how easily this group led by the usurpers son had been fooled, up to now.

Utred was watching as the small group of men below, were scouting along the stream that ran along the floor of the dale and out of the open end from where they had come, to merge with other streams from other similar valleys. There were almost fifty men in this small scouting party of Northumbrians, a small contingent of a larger group, still numbering in excess of six hundred despite the losses they had already suffered and who waited near the mouth of the valley to hear this was a route they could take north, from this band of men. They had all been sent months ahead of Styr's large army that would soon be gathering at Dunholm, apparently to lay the saint to rest, but preparing to move north. The advance group of men, who had been followed ever since since leaving Dunholm, had a simple task, to find Hogwarts and to create a safe, easy route north, for the main Fyrd to take when it crossed the wall, the ideal would be to reach the target unmolested by enemy, though that would be a lot to expect. This small scouting group of Northumbrians would not make it back to the others waiting for news, this would be only the second chance for the men with Utred to harass the enemy. The first had been only a few days earlier and although they had tracked the group for miles, proudly managing to continue the diversion of the Northumbrians, ensuring they had been walking for miles to the east over the last couple of days as planned without realising it. Pleased that they had not had to attack them unnecessarily, the group under Utred's command could feel that this time they would need to and anticipated their own role in it with excitement mixed with anxiety as was usual before a battle in which they knew they could die. They could see that at last, just an hour ago, as they neared the point the western journey had begun, the Northumbrians had begun to realise that they were not progressing as they should be, they had begun sending out more groups of scouts, this one though presented a potential danger to the locals.

Utred and his men would be relieved by another team by night fall so although they and the other teams had already had some fun at the Northumbrians expense since they had crossed the wall, he would not pass up this opportunity to reduce the numbers, sowing seeds of doubt in the enemy, if it presented itself. This was about spreading fear amongst them, rather than wasting effort and probably men, destroying them outright, that way the fear would spread into the main Fyrd via the messengers sent back. The messengers might report what they were expected to to the commanders, but once back amongst the men they would tell them everything that had happened and that would spread, the story growing, becoming more exaggerated as it was retold. Such was the nature of how news was spread, the only truly reliable means of information gathering was from first hand sources.

The men who were heading up the Glen, were being careless, they were progressing in a group, chatting as if out for a stroll in friendly country, not one had weapons ready, confident they would not be attacked. They were ignoring their surroundings, laughing and joking with each other, they would barely have noticed if a charging Boar crashed towards them. The valley was not a long one, but the men either didn't know, or didn't care to note an obvious sign that this vale was a dead end. The valley ended in a sheer cliff wall in the direction they were headed, a narrow waterfall fell over it to feed the stream. The natural barrier had been clearly visible since they had entered the dale, there were no trees in the base, apart from a few odd overgrown willows dotted in the marginal wet land on either of the stream, to obscure the view, so they should have noted it was not the route through the hills that they sought within seconds of entering the valley, but they had not. Hidden from view over the ridge, up a sheep path that would be obvious to them once the group got close to the foot of the falls. It led straight to where there was a village, a small settlement, one of many close to the route the Scots wanted the Northumbrians to take. Utred's team had been tasked to protect these settlements and guide the Northumbrians on the route by whatever means were necessary. They would soon have no choice, but to stop this small group by force if they didn't turn back quickly. Utred had already deployed his men in readiness, out of sight of those in the valley bottom, they knew what they needed to do and would act without further orders, in less than a minute, but only if the Northumbrians continued to walk towards the path.

The stream tumbled over rocks and ledges as it flowed swiftly along its narrow course it had cut into the floor of the valley over countless years, masking the noise of Utred's men moving slowly towards, the Northumbrian scouts. The hapless men were now well out of earshot of the main group, even if they shouted out or called for help. The fifty men had split to walk on both banks of the stream, a few on one side, with the rest on the nearest bank to Utred's own position. The first ten of Utred's men dropped silently down the slope, unnoticed behind the invaders, ready to break cover and cut off any possible retreat once the attack began. Then, quite suddenly the Northumbrians spotted the path, they headed towards it, sealing their fate. Without warning Utred and his men charged down the sides of the ravine, swords drawn, shields ready, axes swinging, with braided beards and hair flying wildly shouting blood curdling battle cries all the way, the sight must have struck fear into the hearts of the bravest of the men in the bottom of the valley.

The invaders still didn't draw their weapons, they were frozen to the spot in surprise, until one of them shouted an unnecessary warning. Still they did not draw weapons, but turned and attempted to retreat instead. Finding the way blocked by a small, rapidly formed, shield wall that was now advancing steadily, but inexorably, ominously, on them. They had no time to form their own shield wall before the Scots were upon them, but some, at last, drew weapons and prepare to receive the attack before they found themselves trapped between the flashing blades of the wildly charging men flying into them on three sides and the steadily advancing shield wall on the fourth, closing off any chance of escape, except by defeating the men bearing down on them.

Battle fever took Utred as he ploughed into the Northumbrians, his countrymen by birth. He took a blow from an axe on his shield before his sword, singing in his hand, sliced through the throat of the first of the armed men in his path. The man fell instantly, eyes wide with fear and surprise, his neck gushing blood, a red rain flying into the air from the fatal blow he had just received. Utred's shield crashed into the man alongside his first victim, the shield's boss crushing the man's face, his momentum, which he had built up on his way down the slope, had carried him through the surprised, ill prepared foe, who was now no longer a threat, as he nursed his damaged face. The blow injuring him beyond fighting ability, but not killing him instantly, he could be healed if he survived the next few minutes, even so, more hot blood sprayed over Utred, soaking his beard and covering his face, he automatically wiped it from his eyes without pause. The inertia he had used ploughing through the first two enemy he encountered spent, he automatically began to move under his own volition and joined his compatriots driving into the enemy, moving smoothly as if in a graceful dance. He had killed five with his sword and had destroyed the faces of at least that many more with his shield, before he noticed a second Northumbrian weapon clash with his shield at all, even though there must have been others. He grinned, he had become used to battle over the years, in the various fights he had participated in for Constantine and others, there was no joy quite like the battle joy he used to guide his motion in a fight, it sharpened his senses, helping him survive. As usual he was revelling that his pre battle nerves had now transformed into adrenaline, which he used to empower himself, as the red mist of the fight guided his actions while he attacked fiercely with the skill of the feared warrior he had become. The skill of that warrior ensured he was aware of his surroundings, sufficiently that he only attacked those who were attacking him and his men, leaving those who had not drawn weapons or moved to attack in anyway, completely alone.

Still he was rejoicing in the thrill of his adrenaline and underlying fear, channelled into the enemy through his own sword. An axe embedded itself in his shield, splintering the wood where the blade penetrated deeply into the wood, it was not a true battle weapon, simply the tool every house had to deal with wood for the fire, but it was just as potentially lethal in any case. Utred saw the weapon was the simple tool, heavier than an axe which a trained man would prefer, but one which all households had, from it he knew the man who wielded it was no soldier, so was probably desperately afraid, which made him far more dangerous. The weapon and how it was being used told Utred that these were likely not Styr's professional or even experienced soldiers, but simple farmers or craftsmen from the mass of his Fyrd, barely trained men, most of whom had probably never have been in battle before, having more bravado than skill. The ones who did not fight back were likely simply too terrified to fight, they were all men who Styr and his son, who commanded the advance column, considered expendable or worthless,which was why they had been sent out to scout, even so this man would not back down, it was either him or Utred who would survive this encounter. This man would not know that if he simply surrendered he would be spared, injured so he could not re enter the fight, his fear would rule his mind, leading him to fight viciously, believing he was fighting a savage and had a chance. He would not give up, his desperation would not let him, he was a man who had convinced himself he had to fight, no matter what, which meant Utred had to stop him, or suffer the consequences himself.

The man drew the axe up, ready to inflict another heavy blow, knowing he had to make this one count, but unknowingly leaving himself open to counter attack. Utred gave a blood curdling yell, his battle cry, in defiant intimidation at the man and he forced his way decisively forward, a last ditch effort to force the Northumbrian to surrender. He saw that the man's resolve began to waiver, though not much, Axe still held aloft the man took a shocked step back wards, but tensed his arm, preparing to bring it down on Utred. Unfortunately for him, the pace back only served to increase the effectiveness of the Lord's shield as it slammed forcefully into the his throat, crushing his oesophagus before he could bring the wood axe down again. The Northumbrians eyes widened as he attempted to gulp for air through the blood flowing into his throat and beginning to overflow out of his mouth, his grip on the axe slackening, but still, somehow held aloft as the man began to drown. Not wishing to prolong the man's suffering from the incurable injury he had given him, Utred swiftly swung his sword, ending the man's life, whilst he still held the handle of the axe, granting entry to the feasting hall of Valhalla in the next life, he had noticed the Thor's Hammer next to the Christian crucifix on a leather thong about the man's neck. The corpse fell to the ground, the axe still in it's hand, the body twitched for a few seconds, before Utred stepped over the now still corpse, to where he engaged with the next of the enemy who wished to fight, dispatching him quickly, then on to the next, his movements almost automatic. Parry, slash, cut, parry, duck, dodge, thrust, the same as the rest of his men in well practised actions, sending frequent showers of blood momentarily into the air, to be followed by another with the next weapon blow.

The skirmish lasted only a few minutes, the enemy surrendering when all those who had taken up arms in their group were either dead, injured or had dropped their weapons in surrender. The blood that soaked the ground spread in the marginal land between stream and usable land, before it trickled steadily into the fast running waters of the stream, which now ran with ribbons of red slowly merging to lightly colour the water. The flow carrying the tell tale red evidence of the fight, which grew stronger as more blood found it's way into the water and from the valley, where the watery evidence would probably be noticed by the larger group waiting where it emerged from this valley. If they did then they were likely to send more men to investigate, although if they did they would be better trained men than these were. The men with Utred, covered in the blood of the enemy, knew they had limited time before those trained men would arrive, so busied themselves stripping anything useful from the bodies of the dead, as was expected, not that there was much, but the victors always salvaged anything useful or valuable from the dead, weapons from the injured or captured were also taken, not to do so would appear strange.

Utred stood next the bodies of two of his own men who had been killed, both Scotsmen sworn to one of the Lords who had answered Constantine's call. Both had died with swords in hand, both worshipped the old Gods and their spirits would be with those of the others killed here, on the way to Valhalla. He knew they would have no time to bury them here before the Northumbrians sent more men, so he waved his wand and the two corpses were sent to a prearranged tent at Hogwarts where they would be looked after and their Families or Lord would arrange for them to be buried or cremated as appropriate. This done, he turned to the captured and injured Northumbrians, nodding to Skorri and the other three wizards in the group, the other Creaftas were on their own missions, they swiftly drew their wands. First they performed healing spells on the injured of both sides, then bound the Northumbrian captives. The youngest Northumbrian had been separated from the others and was brought before Utred. Utred grinned at the boy, who shook in fear at the sight of the helmeted, blood soaked warrior before him. Utred knew he must have appeared fearsome, even demonic to the boy, but could see he did not need to scare the boy more, the child was frightened enough as it was.

"How old are you boy?" He growled.

There was the sudden sharp tang of fresh urine scenting the air as the young Northumbrians bladder released its contents. "Twelve, my lord, last month." Came the quivering reply.

"Well boy, return to the Earsling in charge of your little army, tell him you were the lucky one today. Tell all who will listen, that today you met the Lord of Tang and survived, you are the one we let go free. Today at least, this is your tale to tell."

The boy went white and fell to his knees. "My Lord, please take me with the others, they killed the last one sent to tell the tale, just for delivering the message. The one from the other day, they beat him to death with their fists, on the orders of the Kings son, he was only eleven. Thorfin said the next one who returned with any messages after any defeat would be nailed to the nearest tree, he only wanted to hear from those telling of victories. Please do not send me back, my Lord." The boy pleaded.

Skorri had joined Utred and heard the pleadings. "Damn it Utred, we can't send him back to that, the one survivor to tell the tale is expected and the honourable way, but not if we are sending them to torture and murder. The messenger is just that, honour dictates they are protected, can't be harmed for bringing the news. We knew the usurper and his son were cruel, but now we know the son at least is without any honour at all we cannot sink to his level, we can't leave the one to tell the tale any more. We can't do that again, not if they are talking about torturing a child to death."

The boy was suddenly indignant. "Oi I am of age, a man."

Utred laughed, glad the boy had spirit. "All right, a man, with spirit, good. Put him with the others, we'll take him with us. Any of these your Kin?" He asked the boy, indicating the dead.

"No Lord, my father and brother are among those you have over there." The boy responded pointing at the captives, his father had, had his arm healed.

"Good, go sit with them, don't worry, we won't harm you unless you attack us of course." Utred reassured the boy, then turned to Skorri. "Stake out their dead for the beasts, make it look like they were executed, send the message we are still opportunist savages as they believe, rather than organised. If they come looking that will send the message of the defeat as well anyway, if they don't, well they will be gone by morning."

Skorri nodded, he used his wand and the grim task was completed quickly, the other Wizards cleaning up the blood from the men and themselves, Utred did the same to himself. Message prepared, the few wizards in the group levitated the captives ahead of the victorious, quickly back up the slope away from the grim sight of their defeated comrades bodies, which they left to feed Raven and Beast next to the red tinted stream, close to where

they had died. Had they looked back into the valley once they had reached cover, as they walked out of it, they would have seen the first large black birds, rooks and crows as well as some magpies, descending, the first to feast on the spilled entrails from the dead, left where it had fallen in the battle, as well as alighting onto the bodies themselves. Undisturbed they would soon be joined by other birds, as well as animals to feast on the carrion, just as they would any other remains they were attracted to.

Once they reached the tree covered plateau at the top of the valley, the Wizards port keyed the prisoners to a holding camp that had been set up on an island belonging to Salazar, in the middle of the north sea, out of sight of the mainland. The position was ideal as a holding area, those brought there as prisoners by Magical means had no reference to know which direction the mainland was, it could be reached by boat, but it was extremely difficult for muggles to navigate to it, thanks to the prevailing conditions and rocks. The unfriendly sea was as good as any wall could be at deterring escape, as well as the natural barriers, it was protected by various wards set by Salazar's parents to ensure no ships, apart from their own could land there, or even come within sight of it. The wards also prevented anyone not keyed into them from performing Magic, making it an ideal holding point for both Muggle and Wizard, it already had a growing population. It was quite a daunting place for anyone to be, the waves crashing violently on the rocky shore, sending cold salty spray into the air above the dark stone coastline, making an instantly intimidating impression.

A series of large tents had been erected within a hastily constructed wooden wall to house and contain the captured Northumbrians in an area of the island. The island was large, though uninhabited until the first prisoners had arrived, even wildlife was mostly restricted to birds, although crustaceans inhabited the pools of the coast, otherwise there was little else to occupy it, even the plant life had to be very hardy to survive what little it had to offer. It was quite exposed to the elements, so another ward, that the four founders had set, prevented the tents and occupants from blowing away into the sea in even the strongest of storms. Guards were unnecessary here, though there was a regular cycle of wardens, made up of the older students at the school with volunteers from Hogsmeade and Godric's Hollow who ensured all was well on the island as well as processed the prisoners when they arrived. Shelter for the guards was in a large Long House magically protected from the growing number of captives, it was also used to process new prisoners before they were released into the main area where the tents were. A strong Legilimens was always present, scanning each new inmate on arrival to ensure all information they could give was found as painlessly as possible. A few wizards had been identified in this way, their wands, including hidden ones, were removed and snapped before being burnt on the long house fire, to help ensure those individuals remained captive and occupied with the tasks required using Muggle means. Each captive was issued with warm, dry clothes and blankets, checked medically, healed as necessary, then sent out through a ward into the tent area. Some turned to return to the house, only to find they could not, the ward prevented that. Food was, for the time being, being sent from the King's lands, but prisoners were set to work to grow their own. The coast of the island was extremely rocky, though the central area which housed the compound, had a shallow sandy loam which, now it was protected from the worst of the North sea wind by the wards, could support many plants.

However, at the opposite end of the island from the compound that currently held the prisoners, wizard builders were busy using stone, magically hewn from the coast line to build a fortress of fearsome strength at that end of the island. The strong dark granite was impossible to work without magic, making it ideal to help defence and repel attack, it's resilience was remarkable. The castle was not being built to keep people out however, it was being built to precise plans drawn up by Salazar to keep people within its walls. They had no idea how long they would need to keep the prisoners here, they knew a more resilient structure than the tents was needed to hold any prisoners for any period of time. Styr had also shown them that they would need somewhere to hold and punish any Witches or Wizard criminals sooner or later and this would provide the answer to that problem in the long term. The castle was growing rapidly and the island shrank at the same rate, literally. With every block removed the dry, or marginal, land of the coast was flooded, the sea filling the spaces left by the long blocks of stone cut from the shore and levitated in long shafts, leaving deep slots for the water to fill, while the freshly cut stone was taken to the places where they were needed. There the resulting long, thick, slabs were cut into usable blocks and added to the rising, immensely thick walls of the castle, the prison, that was rapidly shooting up on the shrinking Azkaban island, casting a growing shadow over it and the sea that crashed up it's lower walls.

Having left their prisoners at the long house to be introduced to their new life on the remote piece of land, Utred

and his friends left the island and returned to the forest at the head of the valley, rejoining the none magical members of their patrol. Once all were ready, they left the ridge, heading away from the valley.

"Anything happen down there whilst we were gone?" Utred asked as the reunited group made their way to the other side of the forest, heading to a Scottish village nestled in the next valley.

"A few more of them came to investigate, probably saw the colour of the stream, they mutilated the bodies when they found them, then ran, scared we'd attack them too probably." One of the men replied. "I can't believe the way the cowards hacked at them, there was no need for it, disgusting way to treat their own or anyone's dead. If they weren't going to leave them as we had, they could have at least taken them for burial or cremation, I thought their church was supposed to be about respect, they showed their dead none. When are you guys gonna use your magic on them, it would save a lot of trouble?" The man finished bitterly.

"It would more than likely bring one hell of a lot more." Skorri rebuffed the idea, though not unkindly, having so many Muggles around at the school they had learnt that the Scots believed Magic was the answer to anything and everything. It was taking time, but slowly Constantine's men were gradually learning it couldn't possibly answer everything.

Skorri sighed and continued. "We know the usurper and his son are wizards and they know about Hogwarts. They just don't know where it is, or that we are fighting with you all to protect these lands from them yet. We don't want them to know that either, at least not until their main army comes. This lot are just his advance party, their task is to find the castle and guide the Northumbrian Fyrd to it without us knowing. Attacking like we are will spread fear amongst them and we can easily guide them where we want them to go without them realising we are, even when the Fyrd comes. That way, hopefully, he will still believe he has the advantage, he doesn't know we know about him being a Wizard, he thinks Sal has primary loyalty to him and won't give him away to us due to his apprenticeship oath, he believes it takes precedence over any other. He is wrong, no Oath can be more important than another in Magic, which is why it is impossible for a wizard to make one that goes against one they have already made, but his belief may cost him in the end."

"Not to mention if they knew we were with you attacking them, all they would need to do is capture one none Magical and they could draw what you knew of our location from them and all of our advantage of choosing the eventual battle field will have gone. Then with that untamed archbishop of his, if we showed magic now he would be able to fetch more men, possibly from Wessex or even his own army. The only magic that priest wants is what he claims to have through his nailed God, not us and we can't risk doing anything early enough for them to send extra men. " Utred added.

"Never trust a Christian wizard." The Scot grinned to the laughter and agreement of the others. "Come on, not far now until we reach the rendezvous location, got to get there in time tomorrow. It will be good to get back to the village and Castle to rest for a while."

"You mean back to the warmth of that new young bride of yours to cuddle you at night, you wily old sod." Teased another of the men, laughter was renewed as they came within sight of the village.

* * *

At Hogwarts and in the village, life continued as near normally as was possible with the number of men camping around them. The students studied as always, whilst the King continued to be a guest, albeit one who wasn't a burden on the resources of the Castle or village. The defence of the Scottish lands would be coordinated from here, each of the Chiefs and Lords of his lands playing their part, the four founders, under Gryffindor, coordinating the magical contribution. It was planned to allow the Northumbrians to penetrate a narrow corridor deep into Scotland, guiding them along a route the Scots allowed, killing or capturing any that strayed from it. The Scottish Chiefs were charged with leading King Styr and his army into a trap, once they crossed the wall. Utred and his men out on patrol were part of this, in a troop, that was now standard in the army. A few magical folk, with a larger number of mundane warriors, the wizards taking care of any prisoners in addition to aiding military action and using healing spells where needed.

The older Chiefs remained permanently at the camp, sending their sons to head their men whilst they organised supply lines and formed King Constantine's war council, drawing in and reviewing reports on the enemy, as well as planning for the future, inevitable battle. They knew the current force of Northumbrians in their lands

was merely an advance party, the main Fyrd would not cross the wall until the Spring at the earliest.

It was knowing this that Leoforwic and his wife Godiva returned from spying on the activities of the Wessex King, able to add to the information available. So far the men of Wessex, with those of Mercia and East Anglia who were ruled over by the Alfred's heir, had remained in the South, leaving Styr to deal with the Scots on his own. Their report confirming this was still the case and that despite urgings from some, it was unlikely to change, was reassuring and confirmed that it would restrict Styr's Army to the men of Northumbria, which was certainly to the advantage of King Constantine and his men. Wessex had sent barely one hundred men north, with one of the Lords of that country and a priest who it seemed had the specific task of accompanying the coffin containing the remains of St Cuthbert, simply representing the rest of Englaland at what was seen as an important event for the church. The continued absence of the Fyrd of Wessex moving to Dunholm, or even being called, was encouraging and indicated that Styr may be more isolated than he believed.

Of course, from Salazar's point of view, this was a disadvantage in one way, it meant they could not rid themselves of Wessex as well as Northumbria as thorns in the side of Magical folk, if they could have, he hoped they could return to co existing together as they had before the Christians had gained so much power. He privately, amongst his friends and the staff, acknowledged that Styr had overstepped the mark so must be brought to heel, even if that meant his first student had to die. Publicly however, he put on a show for the sake of his oath and image, his hopes that his former student could be redeemed were disappearing with every report that came with either the spies, or Wizarding families fleeing Northumbria. He was nothing if not a pragmatist and he realised the reality that his Oath was a burden, which could be seen as support for Styr's actions. For the sake of his students, and himself, the time had come for him to work out how far the oath could be stretched without it breaking, costing him his Magic or even his life, yet still maintain the ones he had with the school and his students.

* * *

Utred's team had reached the unprotected settlement at the end of the path from the valley a short time later, the Wizards swiftly erected protective wards around the small village, whilst the rest of their troop reassured the residents. The village protected, Utred's group moved on and watched as Styr's advance guard marched past, back on the route, but still close enough to have spotted the smoke from the village. Thanks to the wards, Thorfin and his men passed by, without noticing anything. The villagers watched in amazement as the soldiers were, like a gaggle of gosling's following their mother, simply continuing along the route the Scots had wanted them to take, without any deviation. The Northumbrians were clearly oblivious to how close to a settlement they had come, convinced their mere presence was scaring the natives into hiding, despite losing men only a short time before, confident they had scared the savages of these lands by their mere presence.

Utred and the other Scots knew this advance party of Northumbrians were intended to send a message by their mere presence, a political declaration of intimidation. Styr had deliberately sent them, to tell any who watched that he was strong enough to send this band of men into enemy territory as an advance party, he was literally saying if I can spare this many, imagine how many more can I bring if you don't comply with me. Then he was adding his confidence that his men were untouchable, by sending his son with them. It was a strong statement of arrogance and confidence, intended to intimidate, that might have been effective if it weren't for the intelligence the Creaftas and others were gathering.

Utred and Skorri had already infiltrated this advance guard as they had slept or relaxed in camp at the end of the day. Utred had maintained his ability to move unseen and unheard like Sceadugengan in the night forest and marshes, which had been and still was so useful when hunting. He used these talents to great effect while observing the Northumbrians from within their own camp each night, passing within inches of the perimeter guard on occasion as he entered, or left unnoticed. They had discovered that only a few of the remaining group were fully trained warriors though each of them now elderly bar Thorfin himself and his small, loyal band who had accompanied him on the hall burnings. The rest were a mixture of tradesmen and young men, simply answering their Lords and King's call, the group as much of a mix of trained and experienced men, along with the inexperienced. Even so this was still a large number of trained warriors to commit to such a scouting party, especially as they divided into groups to patrol beyond the main body. Groups which would be increasing in size in an attempt to ensure they returned as they were sent out from the main incursion force. Eventually they would not have enough men to maintain the number of patrols, when they would either stop sending them out, or have no choice but to leave them vulnerable. They also had a large number of horses and horsemen, though not enough for them all, these were not solid muscular battle horses, but sleek, fast moving animals used by the messengers they sent back south, further depleting their men as they sent the frequent reports on their progress as they moved through the land.

As they watched, the Northumbrians again sent a party ahead to scout, thirty five men this time, a large troop for this purpose. Utred's men watched and groaned, as they saw them head off the path needed, waiting until the daily messenger headed south on horse back to deliver a report to the King, still in safety at Dunholm, describing the route they were supposedly clearing. Once the rider had disappeared out of sight, the Scots moved as Utred had trained them in the forest and hills around the castle and village, quickly, quietly, like shadows through the trees, not even disturbing the birds feeding on the ground. They would keep watch over the Northumbrians and act only if the patrol did not return quickly to the course needed, Utred would only order this group of his country men attacked when it was needed to prevent the main group following the advance scouts off the route, needed for them to take. They all knew that the day was growing old, soon the Northumbrians would make camp for the night, they would need to find some food to supplement what they had carried over the wall with them as well. All of which meant that, so long as they knew where the scouts were, Utred would allow them to wander and hunt. It was amusing just how clumsy at hunting most of them were, but they would catch the occasional Hare, some would even manage to catch a fish or two if they camped near a river. The Northumbrians were too noisy to notice the plentiful deer of the area which scattered ahead of their clumsy attempts at hunting, scared by the noise. They did have some supplies with them, dried meats and fish as well as cages with chickens in them along with grain, bread and vegetables, which they would eat when they failed to catch fresh food before the sun set. Once it had lowered well in the sky, they would quickly set up camp, settling in for the night, drinking the rapidly diminishing beer from barrels they had brought with them on one of the supply wagons that carried the tents and spare weapons as well as the food. They laughed in the evenings when not on guard, telling stories and singing, much to the disapproval of the priests they had with them, the tension of the patrol dropping as they felt secure behind their guard.

That was when Skorri and Utred would sneak into the camp, listen to what was said, steal some of the supplies, spy on Thorfin's daily council, then return, all without notice of the guard that led to the Northumbrians misguided sense of security. Often they returned behind the wards they used to protect their own men, to a meal of fresh caught venison from a Deer or pork from a Boar their men had caught in the forest, depending on the success of their own peoples hunting, which supplemented the provisions they had taken. It had been the same cycle each night Utred's team had tracked the Northumbrians, they knew the other teams of Scot's did similar with the same success. They were quite surprised that even the Wizards amongst Thorfin's men had failed to detect the presence of their watchers, so each night they learned a little more about the enemy and their plans. Which enabled Utred and his team to keep one step ahead of them each day, giving them an advantage which they could use to protect others. The two Wizards enjoyed their evening work, especially when they could eavesdrop undetected on the young, over confident Wizard who was the commander of this advance troop of Northumbrian insurgents.

* * *

On his fathers orders Thorfin had been delighted to lead the advance group of men his father had ordered north, with an elite of his own men supplemented by some other trained men amongst the over six hundred he had crossed the wall at the head of. He knew the majority of them were ordinary farmers and traders, he also knew their were some Wizards among them as well as the elite, though not how many. They had crossed the border into Alba through a gap in the Roman wall, he guessed a gate may have been there, guarded in some way. The ruins of what had been an impressive Roman boundary were slowly dwindling, as the stone from the once massive structure and it's forts was being reused by locals to mark boundaries between fields and properties, or make a wet path firm to walk on, even to build a wall of stone simply placed on top of each other, of their own. They marched along the Roman road leading through the weed topped, grey remains, until its smooth, worn stone surface stopped abruptly as it passed through the wall, presumably where wooden gates had once controlled the rate of traffic and trade through the boundary,giving way to a mud track. It had been a drizzly grey day as they had crossed the border, a fine rain that penetrated through clothes unnoticed, until the chill of already soaked cloth penetrated through to hit the skin. Each night a message arrived from his father by owl, giving any fresh orders and a messenger was sent back with reports of their progress the next morning. Or at least, the report the messenger was given was what Thorfin wished to tell the King. By no means were the contents of the reports complete, missing as they were, full disclosure of the losses of men, instead proclaiming his progress was slowed by exaggerated victories over a disorganised but persistent Scottish defence. With around one hundred of his men killed or missing within a few days of crossing the wall, with not a single captive or casualty, so far as they knew, inflicted on the enemy, this mission was already bordering on the disastrous. He knew such a such failure would not be tolerated by his Father, so the reports could not reflect that. Thorfin was determined to show his father that after all the training he had received from him, he was capable of more than hall burnings, could be trusted with the important tasks. This was his chance and he was not going to let it go by reporting failure, at least all men he had sent ahead after the earlier losses, had found this camp site without loss to their number. The messengers he sent were his own sworn men, they were the only ones he trusted with the lies if they were questioned. It meant of course that he had fewer around him who he could truly trust, which was a loss, but it was a sacrifice he had to make to hide the blundering of the mission. He just hoped his Father did not realise that may be what was happening, he had taken the precaution of restricting the priests ability to make too many reports back as well, explaining how restricted the numbers of men available were.

His Father had instructed him in the general direction he needed to head and what he was looking for, both physically and by magical detection, which he and the few loyal wizards with him utilised as and when they could. They had to be careful not to use magic near the other men and especially if any of the group of priests accompanying them were nearby, it was not known if they were loyal to Hrothweard, the Bishop at Durham or simply to themselves, but being of the church, it was certain they could not be trusted to serve any interests, other than their own.

He had been instructed to find all alternative routes to there destination, but each time he had tried to find other paths than the they were on, his scouts had been slaughtered by this Lord Utred of Tang, according to the single messenger left after each attack. Thorfin had been furious, how dare some Scottish upstart send such a message, didn't they realise who he was? The very name they used was an insult to his family, he knew no such title existed any longer, not since his father had taken the throne of Northumbria. The messenger that was left alive and free to tell the tale, was clearly a coward, who should have fought harder, to save his compatriots, he could not believe they were being defeated by the disorganised rabble that lived in this forsaken country. There was only one way to deal with such treachery, Thorfin ordered the last man who had been spared and returned beaten to death, that would motivate the men to fight and keep his confidence, though the barbarians somehow seemed to know this. Not a single man or boy was spared from the latest attack, so there had been no one for him to blame or take out his frustrations on.

He sat in his tent, with his advisers, unaware that they were being carefully listened to by those who had caused them the problems they were trying to hide. In fact Utred was taking great pleasure in standing immediately in front of Styr's son every time he spoke, grinning right at him, his hand on the pommel of his sword.

"Our task remains the same, we must ensure the path is known and safe, in readiness for the main army to pass to our target unmolested by resistance in the spring. We must find this target for my father, all the way we must report on the specific route and terrain he must lead the Fyrd through." Thorfin insisted.

"Yes my Prince, but why are we on this route?" One of his advisor's grinned.

Thorfin lost his temper. "Because our orders are to head this way, or would you abandon the King's task?"

The advisor immediately shook his head "No, my prince of course not. Our route remains in low lands along valleys, we have seen few settlements and met no visible resistance. However morale is low in the men, the deaths by an unseen enemy has them spooked, it almost feels like we are being guided and some claim this land has to be cursed as a result."

"This land is no more cursed than the stinking farms they come from." Thorfin blasted, ridiculing the notion. "We are headed exactly where we should be, guided by myself and those who know how to get to the part of this flea bitten land, no one else. Once we have found it, then we shall look at creating other routes, so the attack can be from more than one direction. We are only a week into these lands and the simpletons are spooked already? What did they expect, a quiet stroll through the country? We are in enemy lands, the people here do not want us here, but have run and hidden at the sight of us. Presumably our patrols have them spooked when they got too close, hence they have attacked unsuspecting men, which means our losses are because our patrols were careless, instruct them to be more vigilant, remind them why we are here. Priests, it is up to you to bless the men, protect them from the pagan spirits that are sowing these doubts amongst the men, clearly this is their work, you aren't praying hard enough to protect us from them. You are dismissed to your altar, do what is required."

The priests mumbled to each other then bowed acknowledgement and left, to return to the tent they had set up as a chapel to pray.

"Now, the rest of you, you are too complacent, our losses are entirely due to your lack of control of your men. Once again, I have covered for you with my father, now ensure tomorrow we have made better progress, the men are your responsibility, make sure they are in appropriate spirits to fulfil our task, regardless of rumour." Thorfin ordered.

His advisers left muttering dissatisfaction, Thorfin was too naive to put a stop to it.

Utred had almost chuckled hearing the frustration in the son of Styr's voice, there was already dissatisfaction with his leadership among the men under Thorfin's command. It was clear this expeditionary force were disorganised from the top down, the men themselves felt leader less, they could see Thorfin's frustration, which led to unrest and the losses today had helped to fuel that, this might be easier than they had thought. He and Skorri remained concealed as they wandered freely round the camp, listening to the moans of the men and more experienced Lords gathered round the various cooking fires that had been lit between the tents. Thorfin had not once been seen amongst his men in camp, preferring to remain in his tent, despite the encouragement of the Lords to be seen, to give the men confidence that he was at their side with them. The lords knew he was out of his depth, for their own sakes, they were trying to stop the men seeing that too much, but it was not an easy task, which Thorfin did not see or help with. Utred had found it incredible that they hadn't needed to encourage disloyalty, amongst even the Lords, it was spreading incredibly fast amongst this part of the Northumbrian army, entirely due to the frustrations in its inexperienced commander, it had not yet reached a stage where they might rebel, not yet at least. They had not needed to plant the seeds for that at all, it had sprung up spontaneously amongst these men, but still they whispered stories of what had really happened to the men that they had lost, as well as about the spirits of the lands. They would stand outside tents of men whispering the tales, knowing it would undermine their faith in the priests and spread confusion about who to trust.

Utred had grinned with relish when they had discovered who the leader of this advance force was, the night after they had crossed the wall. His glee tempered by the fact that his sworn enemy's son was untouchable at present, but he knew the time would come and was quite prepared to be patient. Capturing Styr the usurpers son would be a blow to the Northumbrian pretender and his army, but they needed the fool to create the path they had laid down for that Fyrd before they did it. Besides his revenge was against Styr, not his son, though Thorfin did need to answer for his own crimes against Wizard kind. Utred would be delighted to see both father and son face what was coming to them, but Styr was not in the country yet, so for now, for them all it was a game of waiting and watching. With his men dissatisfied with his leadership, and beginning to feel betrayed by their priests added to the fact that so many of their friends had already been killed, it was ironic that Utred realised, it might be that the Scots may need to protect the fool until the time was right for Thorfin to face justice. While they were happy to capture them, or even encourage them to abandon their mission Thorfin's presence would help draw Styr in, so it would not be good for the Scots plan if the Northumbrians did turn against him to forcefully, not yet at least.

After their evening gathering information on the invaders, the two Creaftas retired back to their own camp, to eat and report to the others what they had seen and heard, they knew they had a night here before their relief arrived next morning, a night when they were still in danger. They knew there were wizards amongst Thorfin's men, Wizards who might detect their camp and organise an attack on them, it might be unlikely, but as a possibility they needed to be prepared. Each man knew everything, so if they were attacked any one of them who might survive and escape could report their findings to Constantine, keeping him as informed as possible. Once they had eaten and made their report Skorri took the first Guard duty leaving the rest to sleep for a while, secure behind wards that helped protect them as much as was possible for the night.

The next day Utred and the men kept a close watch on the Northumbrians, ensuring they avoided any of the

settlements they came near, by either magical or Muggle means. At midday, they arrived on a ridge overlooking a long valley, which they had guided their quarry into. They could see for miles along it from their position they knew this was the ideal place for the planed rendezvous was to take place, so watching the enemy, they settled to await their relief, that would take over from them, allowing them to go for some well earned rest.

Utred glanced at the sun, assessing it was the right time, he nodded to Skorri who Apparated away with a soft pop. Moments later a group of wizards and Scottish Muggles arrived, holding a rope which had acted as a port key to transport them all her. The wizard leader and Scottish chief approached Utred, who recognised them both and greeted them.

"My lord." He nodded to the Muggle "And Pyrlig isn't it?"

"It is Lord Utred." The young wizard replied, he was in his final year of apprenticeship to Slytherin. "A message from Salazar my lord, he wished you to meet with him on your return, he says he has information for you that he needs to discuss, he suggests meeting this evening. "

Utred acknowledged the message with a nod, then proceeded to brief them on the insurgents, and what they had discovered about them. "Last thing, it seems the leaving of one man to tell the tale of Lord Utred of Tang attacking the scouting parties has led to Thorfin ordering that survivors brutal torture and death, so take all survivors to the island." He finished, before he and his men grasped the Portkey and they left to return to the Castle.

* * *

 **Late 20th Century.**

The book Harry and Ginny had lent Hermione had confirmed both the legend of the cursed family and that Utred was Gryffindor's first apprentice, although it did add information about him as a student that she had not known, it was simply a confirmation of the legend, it added little new to her understanding of what she needed to do. Hermione needed more, she knew that behind every legend was some truth, she just needed to find it all, she needed to understand the overwhelming pull she felt to the graveyard in Whitby and how she could possibly fulfil her destiny once there. She knew she had to control it, but the need to go and do something was still strong, though now she was making progress not as overwhelming as it had been.

A thousand years ago there was no ministry of magic to keep records, just the communities the four founders created. There were a few Muggle records of the time, however these were often biased, written by Priests who saw magical ability as against their church, so what they had written was therefore unreliable at best. Perhaps in the magical world she could find more, perhaps she could find out more about Utred from the school records. She could easily check the Ministry Archive where they had been deposited at some point after the foundation of the Ministry, but it was possible there was another one, more complete, at Hogwarts, kept separately? In the absence of a ministry then, did they even keep records at that time, would any archive have them if they did? If the only records kept were simply those of individual families, she may not have access to them, unless they had been deposited in the ministry archive as Harry had done with the Black family records. She felt like she was trying to put pieces of a jigsaw together, only being given part of the picture and the pieces arriving one at a time in no particular order. That thought gave her pause, she realised that this must be exactly how Harry had felt in his time as a student at Hogwarts, she knew he had discovered his destiny bit by bit, slowly over the years. In fact he wasn't even sure he knew the whole thing even now, although he had managed to succeed. It was a realisation that was not at all comforting, although at least she wasn't facing death as often as he had while she found out.

She knew that she might be able to use Muggle records to trace the family back a couple of hundred years, almost certainly as far back as the Whitby ghosts they had met over a year ago, though probably only a generation or two further. Her parents may be able to help with that, she would have to ask them, though it was likely that it would simply give her a family tree and no more. She picked up her quill and made notes of the questions she felt were yet to be answered about her ancestors, she also was desperate to discover more about Utred. What sort of man was he? Where was Tang? What did he achieve in life? What did he do that led to the curse? She needed to find more about him and his life. This project was, for her, more than mere research, this was her new compulsion if she did but, realise it.

Ron had seen relatively little of Hermione over the last few weeks, her work at the Ministry meant she left the house by Floo as as he left by the front door to go to the shop. He knew her research work in the Ministry archive meant she stayed there late, only returning home when the evening duty archivists completed their shift in the department. This all meant they had only been able to catch up with each other over breakfast and evening meals, otherwise being too busy sleeping. Dudley's presence at some evening meals meant Hermione would not discuss whatever she had discovered when he was there, not wanting to bore him and wanting to be more sociable, so conversation was either lighter or helping him to understand more of the world he now lived in. Dudley had noticed the change in Hermione and worried that it might be his presence at their table so regularly that had contributed to it. It was only when Maria had managed to have lunch with Hermione at the Ministry that she had been able to reassure her boyfriend and convince him it wasn't the case. Hermione had also spoken with him to reassure him, after which she did her best to reset her priorities, despite feeling the need to do nothing but, research. That helped a little, for a few days at least, but then she was back to how she had been before, though with the difference that Dudley knew it was nothing to do with his presence. Hermione was determined to make sure she would be ready to fulfil her destiny as soon as possible, she was so concentrated on it that she missed the concern of those around her.

Ron was at a loss, he knew most thought he was one of the least sensitive people around and he could understand that view, except where it came to Hermione. He saw what she was doing and accepted it, but was worried about her, he knew what she was like when she got the bit between her teeth trying to research things, but this was different. She could be obsessive, but never to the extent where she was unaware of what was going on around her, or when other things that he knew were important to her were being badly effected. He knew she would be mortified when she realised and wanted to spare her that if he possibly could, but his time with his fiancée was limited these days, despite their living together. He knew he would need to risk her wrath and act for her own good soon, but he knew if he did it, she would likely blow her stack at him as she had never done before. He knew he had to risk it though, for her, he cared for her enough to take that risk though, if and when it was necessary, he would give it to the end of the month though.

It was late in November when Minerva called round to Titch Marsh Cottage, for afternoon tea during a Hogsmeade weekend. She had arranged to call in with the couple, only to find Ron on his own. The Professor frowned as the young man apologised for his future wife's absence, Hermione had gone to the Ministry archive to collect some documents that morning and had yet to return, several hours later. She could see he was worried about his betrothed, she saw him come to a decision.

"Well I told myself I would wait until the end of the month." He sighed. "Minerva, I expect Hermione will not thank me for this, but I am very worried." He then explained what was going on to her, she could see this had been preying on his mind.

They were finishing a second cup of tea along with some of Molly's fruit cake, which she had brought for them the last time she visited, when Hermione emerged from the fireplace looking flustered and immediately apologised for being late, having only just noticed the time.

Minerva raised an eyebrow. "Thank you for your apology Miss Granger, however I wonder, if I might have a word with you about balancing work, private research and the other aspects of your life,which are just as important, my dear?" She asked firmly, though not unkindly.

Hermione's eyes widened, she had heard that phrase only once before, during her first year when she had spent hours reviewing every book she could in the library at Hogwarts, at the cost of all, but lessons and homework. That had been before the Troll incident, the results of which had forced her to re evaluate her priorities at the time. It had been the Professor who had used that particular phrase on that occasion as well, it had given her pause for thought then and had the same effect this time. Minerva did not need to say another word to her, she analysed the last few weeks mentally in a few moments, her conversations with Maria and Dudley as well as everything else. Her eyes betraying her reaction as the realisation of how much she had neglected her home life and Ron sank into the place in her mind it should have been all along.

Without another word to or from Minerva, she ran over to Ron, tears flowing from her eyes, wrapped him in a tight hug, ignoring the wide eyed surprise on his face as she apologised to him. Minerva smiled as the young man, who was not well known for his emotional maturity, comforted his fiancée. He's learning, the older witch muttered to herself, smiling in satisfaction that she had helped the couple without needing to really try.

A few minutes later, the couple were sat with the professor in their parlour, enjoying a fresh pot of tea, another piece of cake with Wensleydale cheese and discussing Hermione's research.

"Well, Hermione, I have told you all I can remember about the legend, but I would suggest that you talk with others about your research, you never know what you might find out from their different perspective." Minerva smiled. "I am sure you can talk to your old colleagues at Hogwarts in the holidays, they start in a week."

Hermione looked thoughtful then horrified. "A week, is that all? I haven't even started my Christmas shopping yet." The young witch exclaimed, alarmed. "I usually have all except the Muggle shopping done by now."

A week after Minerva had visited their friends, Harry and Ginny arrived home at Grimmauld place for the holidays, to be greeted by Kreacher and Winky. None of the Gryffindor's had elected to stay at the castle over Christmas this year, so they had been free to leave for the entire period. The two elves had spent the morning preparing the house for the arrival of the couple for the Christmas holidays, but left the decorations for them, knowing it was something Harry enjoyed doing, a thing he had not been able to do very often. They had prepared the master room for them as well as the sitting room, where a tray was set on the table with drinks and a fresh baked cake for the couple, for the elves and their master and mistress, this would be their first festive season as married couples.

"Welcome home Master and Mistress." Kreacher grinned.

"Refreshments are ready and Madam Andromeda enquired what time you were expected, says she will be here with young master Teddy shortly. It seems the young Master somehow knew you were returning today, a puzzle to us all." Winky smiled.

"Thank you, you two." Ginny grinned. "How do you like your new quarters?"

As a wedding present to their elves, Harry and Ginny had returned to the house during the Hogsmeade weekend and secretly set up new quarters for the elves by the kitchen. They had created a small bed sit en suite for the two elves, by expanding Kreacher's old cupboard into the garage to make it. The rooms were furnished as smaller versions of Harry and Ginny's own bedroom and bathroom suite upstairs, they knew it would have been a surprise to the two elves.

"Winky has never had such a room." The female elf exclaimed. "I is most grateful."

"Master and Mistress are most kind, it is much more than any Elf has had before." Kreacher added, awe struck. "We is both overwhelmed."

Harry smiled, glad that their gift had been well received, he knew neither Elf had been used to such generosity from their previous Masters, although they would never admit it. "I am glad you like it, we both thought you deserved it. Winky welcome back to our home, yours as well as ours. By the way, has Kreacher shown you every where in the house yet."

"Not yet Master, apart from the sitting room, we has only opened up your rooms and the rooms for your Aunt and cousin so far, we will fix the others soon, I didn't need to go into every room when last here." The elf replied dutifully.

Harry and Ginny had sat down and Ginny looked up at Winky's words. "That isn't quite what we meant Winky, it's fine, but we thought that there might be some places in this house which you won't have seen when you were here before. Kreacher, please make sure Winky knows where everything is in this house. Tomorrow we shall need to start getting all of the rooms open, except the ball room, though I expect the games room will get used when everyone gets here. We shall need our room of requirement to create enough rooms for everyone for when they arrive, all my family will be here, including the twins and Aunt Muriel. Maria and her family will be here for Boxing day as well, though they aren't going to stay over with us. We invited them to join us for Christmas as well, but they insist they don't want to impose, I did assure them it would be no problem, but they will be staying with an Uncle of Maria's mother on Diagon Alley for the festive season, he is apparently quite elderly and on his own so they like to spend the day with him. I left it at that, though Maria knows they would all be welcome if they change their minds. We shall have to check on when Andromeda and Teddy will be sleeping over here during the holiday, when they arrive today."

The two elves nodded then popped out of the room as the door bell rang, a moment later Teddy came barrelling into the room calling. "Harry and Ginny back, Yay." At the top of his voice.

"Hey Teddy!" Harry grinned as the toddler ran to hug him and then Ginny, who greeted the youngster in similar fashion.

Andromeda entered the room. "Welcome back you two, it's so good to see you. Are you both recovered from the events of the term?" She grinned.

Ginny laughed "Well at least we weren't kidnapped this time, still, two weddings, a double funeral, gaining a new brother and sister, then the usual Hogwarts and Ministry work. I suppose you could say that all in all it has been an interesting one, if less exciting

."

"Not to mention the Bulgarians visit, or the Guy Fawkes celebrations again." Harry added wistfully "Besides, I have yet to have a quiet year at Hogwarts, since I first arrived there. Although it has to be said, this one has certainly been quieter than I am used to so far."

Andromeda sat down thoughtfully. "You know, I never thought of that, but you are right Harry, neither of you have really had a peaceful time at school, either as students or staff. How the two of you have ended up as the well rounded people that you have become, is incredible in many ways. Thank Merlin you have though."

"It's Hermione I am worried about at the moment." Harry sighed shaking his head.

"What's wrong with her?" Andromeda asked puzzled.

"She's quite obsessed with this research into Gryffindor's first student and how he links to the cursed family and the Huntrodds." Ginny told her. "I know Ron is worried too."

Andromeda mouthed "Oh!" Then sat in thought.

The silence lasted a few minutes as the three adults sat lost in their own thoughts.

"Harry, play?" Teddy shouted, snapping the adults out of their thoughts.

"Ok Teddy fella!" Harry laughed and picked up his Godson. "I know, us adults were being boring. Lets go see

if we can find where Kreacher hid the toy's shall we, I don't think he or Winky have opened the nursery yet, so we may have to look hard for them, maybe that box of them that we put in here is still around."

Andromeda and Ginny joined the boys, as the box of toys was located in the corner of the room and a game with a stuffed dragon and building blocks was started.

That evening, following dinner, Andromeda and Teddy went home leaving Harry and Ginny in the drawing room. They were going over some papers Bill had sent for them via Gringotts owl. The owl had arrived just before they had that morning, left the papers, which had been waiting for them to get round to them, then left. Bill had, at last, completed his review of the holdings of the Black and Potter inheritance, which he had summarised on the parchment. In addition he had discovered other inheritances for the couple coming through the Muggle Evans line, including holdings in Grunnings which they already knew about. Bill had discovered the Evans will, made by Harry's maternal grandparents, the estate had been divided into two parts at the time of execution. Petunia had been left significant quantities of jewellery and cash, but all property and shares had been left to Lily, the two bequests had been of equal value at the time of the execution of the will. The bequests had never been completely collected, Petunia had received her parts of the bequest, but Lily had never been able to go to the Solicitors to complete the transfer before her own death. Bill had provided the appropriate documentation to the lawyers, who were satisfied and arranged for the current head of the Solicitors company to meet with Harry to finalise the Evans will.

Harry was sat at the Bureau they had brought from Godric's Hollow, going through the papers for that meeting which was arranged for the next day, Ginny sat with him noting any questions they had about each document they would have to take with them. A copy of the Evans will showed a list of property acquired by his grandparents, attached were notes and court papers detailing Vernon's attempts to grab the property for himself. Luckily the courts had consistently dismissed his increasingly desperate and ridiculous law suits, until finally a judge had ordered him to cease and had slapped him with a heavy fine for wasting Judiciary time and resources. Petunia had told them that Vernon had almost spent the equivalent of her inheritance from her parents in the failed attempts, before she had quietly submitted a request to the last judge, privately in chambers, for it to be stopped about a year before Harry had started at Hogwarts. Vernon had gained nothing and lost much in the attempt to take what had been repeatedly ruled as Harry's, yet he had still coveted it and had planned to force him to sign a document giving it all over to him, even after they had returned from hiding. It was a plan Petunia had seen the folly of, she was ashamed to say that at one time, in the first few years after Harry had been left on the doorstep, she had encouraged it, agreeing with his argument that it was rightful compensation to them for taking Harry in. She had admitted it was only fear of what Harry, as a fully trained wizard, could be capable of doing to them if, as he inevitably would, he found out about it, that she had put an end to the legal processes, not through any concern for him. She had however made a plan to ensure the paper was never signed, by the time they had arrived at the house next to the park on their way home, after what she had learnt about Harry while in Derbyshire, this had been through concern for him rather than her husband.

The Prewitt clock chimed midnight in the hall. "Come on love, time for bed" Ginny yawned and stretched.

Harry nodded and placed the papers back in the folder they had come in, they would have time tomorrow to look at the rest. He reached at the same time as Ginny to close the bureau, touching the polished timber together, they began to lift it from it's position where it could be used as a desk. As they pushed the lid closed the plaque showing their ancestors names glowed briefly and with a clunk, the right hand side panel popped ajar. Ever since finding the bureau at Godrics Hollow and hearing the message it gave at the time, then since Harry had received the parchment from it on the morning of their wedding, they had wondered what secrets the heirloom held. It had only been when they had reached Hogwarts in September that they had realised that with Dudley and Petunia's arrival, they had been too distracted in the summer to remember the need to be together to find the answers. Although both had used it during the summer, it had always been separately, never together, until now.

His hand trembling, Harry pushed the panel open further. It swung on its hinges revealing a compartment much larger than the outside of the Bureau would indicate was possible. The compartment held a very old looking large chest, its dark wood banded with gun metal grey fittings, including a handle visible on the end. Harry reached in to grasp the handle, as he did a golden light erupted from the chest and Harry collapsed to the floor. A slip of parchment flew up out of the bureau then fluttered to the ground, ignored, near by.

His eyes fluttered open to find a worried looking Ginny placing a cushion under his head; noticing he had come round she grinned.

"Can't even open a cupboard without something happening to you now can you my love?" She scolded gently.

"How long was I out of it?" He asked.

"Only a minute or two, long enough to worry me, Kreacher and Winky though." She grinned and placed a hand on his chest to prevent him rising.

"No, stay where you are please love, Poppy is on her way, I want her to check you over first Harry, make sure whatever that was hasn't done any damage to you."

Harry groaned in frustration, much as he liked the Hogwarts healer as a friend, he hated the fuss that was necessary for her to do her job, especially if the subject of her kindly ministrations was him. He quite admired her skill when it was applied to someone else, but felt he had become far too familiar with it since he had first met her. Over the years and especially during the last months since he had returned to them, it had become a bit of a game between them, both understanding the others point of view and accepting it with a little more than good grace and as a result they teased each other at any opportunity.

Poppy arrived accompanied, from the fire place in the lounge, by Kreacher and Winky. Seeing he was conscious and lucid when she entered the room, she let out a sigh of relief.

"He can't ever manage a few hours away from school before he creates excitement for us this year then?" She joked to Ginny.

"No, Poppy, it doesn't seem he can, poor boy; we'll have to stick to him like a charm to stop him needing a healer as soon as our backs are turned." Ginny grinned.

"Well, it would certainly be good to visit him as a friend, not a patient for a change." The nurse smirked.

"Oi, I am here you know, honestly any one would think I did this on purpose." The subject of their ridicule pouted, a twinkle of humour in his eyes.

The two ladies burst into laughter. "All right Harry." Poppy giggled. "It's just such a relief to arrive after receiving a call that something has happened to you and not find you seriously injured for once, lets check you over though, make sure there is nothing less obvious. How long was he out for?"

Ginny calmed down as the healer began her scans. "Only a few minutes Poppy, he touched that chest, there was a flash and he collapsed."

Poppy nodded as she completed her scans. "Well, I don't know what it was, but whatever it was it seems to have had a positive effect on you. As far as I can tell you have never been so healthy, the improvement compared with the scan I gave you yesterday is remarkable. For instance, I can find no sign of the illness, that we have slowly been working through for the last few months. Yesterday, the imbalance that caused your bouts of tiredness was there, today it's gone completely. That's not all though, all signs of illness's and past injury which I could do nothing about so you have carried since I have known you, have gone, completely vanished. It's as if they were never there, out of interest, how's your eye sight Harry?"

"Seems fine to me." He replied puzzled.

"Hmm, that's my theory that your poor eye sight was a result of bad nutrition as a child disproved." She sighed, Harry looked puzzled so she explained. "You are still wearing your glasses, if what I had suspected had been the case, just as it was for all other signs of illness that had lingered and this had healed your eyes, you wouldn't need them any more. You can see clearly with them, so you still need them sadly. Whatever happened healed you of all the other problems from your growing up, at least those which I can detect, the only other exception is you have not gained any height either, still you are fine medically as far as I can tell, I'd better hang around in case though."

Harry grinned. "You mean in case it happens again if I try to take the trunk out." He began to sit up.

"No I mean when you do, I know you too well to believe it's an if, Harry." She chuckled then paused "What's that?"

Harry followed her line of sight, and spotted the slip of parchment where it had landed, he picked it up and read it.

"The time has arrived, the closet I concealed is now yours. Sealed a millennium ago by the Creafta Tigelwotta,

passed down his descendants, guarded and concealed by them, until the one of his line's Essence is bound and his friend who is destined to be the Lord of Tang's rescuer feels the tug of their Magic to free those who came before. The closet contains secrets of creatures and three fourths of the founders, none shall see until the descendants of Gryffindor and Tigelwotta and his essence bonded wife, together open it. The time is here, the time has come at last, so young bonded Tigelwotta's, view your inheritance, the closet of the Peverill's is yours."

"Who is Tigelwotta?" Ginny asked. "I've never heard of that family."

"Mistress, it is similar to a Saxon word meaning Potter, Tigelwotta is Master's ancestor." Winky told them.

"Why didn't the family tree show that name though?" Harry wondered.

"If it was like the Black tapestry, it translated family names into it's most recent form, thanks to a charm applied when it was made." Kreacher explained. "There was a Black who was described as a Creafta as well, he was amongst the earliest students of Gryffindor in the time of the founders, before the sorting hat. Though I am not sure what the Creafta's were, or who else was one."

"Perhaps that is something for Hermione to check into." Harry said. "We know the Peverill's pre-dated the founders and are ancestors of mine through marriage, though not who too, perhaps it was to this Tigelwotta. Lets see what's in this closet."

Ginny was about to object, but he again reached for the handle and pulled.

This time the old wooden box slid out easily and with Kreacher's help, it was placed carefully on the table in the room.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Ginny walked over and looked at the fastenings holding the lid closed; she reached to release one and another flash erupted as soon as she touched it.

"Wow." She exclaimed "That felt odd, oh dear." And sat down.

Poppy quickly scanned her. "You are perfectly healthy Ginny, it's healed a couple of scars, including the ones from last year, as well as one or two other things, I can't detect any negative effect, just the same as with Harry."

"Mmm, I just felt overwhelmed for a moment, now I'm fine though." Ginny assured her.

Harry, who had been instantly at her side, sighed. "That's how I felt love, but at least you didn't black out."

Ginny looked at him "Never mind Harry, that might be because you had more to heal maybe, or older injuries. It doesn't matter really, the important thing is we are ok. Come on let's see what is in it." She successfully diverted his attention from dwelling on the different reactions they had, had between them.

They looked down at the dark metal hasps that slotted over loops of the same metal, near either end of the closet.

Decorative iron locks, similar to padlocks secured the hasps, rattling in the loops as the couple each inspected one of the ancient looking contraptions. A slot in the base appeared to be where a key should be inserted, although there was no sign of any. They withdrew their wands and pointed them at the padlocks.

"Alohomora!" They intoned in unison.

* * *

 **Authors notes:**

Many thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter, I look forward to seeing any you are kind enough to leave for this (or any other of my stories/chapters for that matter). It is always interesting to read what others think.

There was one reviewer of the last chapter who I couldn't thank personally or respond to as they did not log in so the messaging system on the site won't work. As I say on my profile page, if you do want a response then please log in then I can do using the built in method.

Anyway, on to the Historical notes.

Until next time.

Tgfoy.

* * *

 **Historical notes.**

Sheep Path: In many parts of the UK Sheep kept on high ground will use set routes to get about the areas they graze, creating paths through the vegetation. Lambs learn the routes by following the heard and generations of them have used these paths as a result. The routes become so ingrained into the sheep that I have seen the animals head butting a vehicle that was parked across the end of a path, to get it out of the way, rather than walk round it. It was not the sheep that was coming off the worst either.

Utred's offer to the boy to be the one survivor of the skirmish to tell the tale was a custom of the time. The idea was that in telling the tale of the defeat, the one spread fear of their opponent, meaning that when they arrived the populace would realise it was pointless to fight, reducing losses on both sides.

Contrary to what some may expect, the taking of prisoners was not unusual, once an army had victory they had gained land, they needed slaves familiar with it to tend it for them. Similarly we have evidence that any injured would be assessed and if treatable would be treated, one diagnostic tool was onion soup, used to detect injury to the digestive system. They also knew how to bandage wounds to aid healing. There is even evidence of treatment of ailing and injured horses in this period, though to own a horse was the equivalent of owning a Ferrari today so perhaps that isn't so surprising.

There is some evidence that bodies of victims may have been left for animals although the circumstances are subject to much debate. They may have been victims of ambush and there was no time for the attacker to deal with disposing of the bodies, alternatively they may have been individuals who had been executed. Whatever the case, deliberate mutilation of the dead was a remarkable and shocking thing for anyone to do at the time, a sign of complete disrespect even if an enemy did it.


	16. Wild Rides and Celebrations

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise from the wonderful books by J. K. Rowling belong to her and her publishers, I make no claim on it. Anything else is mine.

* * *

 **Please Note:** **The 10th century portion of this chapter mentions a human and mass animal sacrifice, reflecting a religious belief and ritual of the time. I do not condone cruelty to animals, or indeed to humans, however the scene depicts an event which would be seen as normal, although infrequent, in the period. The scene is not too graphic, but some readers may not want to read the last few paragraphs of this chapter describing the ritual held on the last day of Yule.**

* * *

 **Chapter 16.**

 **Wild Rides and Celebrations.**

 **Late 20th Century:**

Each spell hit one of the locks and nothing happened, the couple looked at each other, then at Poppy, they all shrugged to each other.

Harry and Ginny pointed their wands at the locks once more, they were about to try again, but were stopped by a sudden, brief intense heat, a blinding white flash of silent intense flame appeared above the chest and a Phoenix appeared. The magnificent bird stretched it's wings and shook itself, as if waking from a long slumber. Glowing, raising it's head and opening it's beak, it's soothing song filled the room with optimistic beauty.

"Fawkes?" Harry asked.

"That's not Fawkes, Harry." Ginny's voice was thoughtful.

The Phoenix opened it's eyes and Harry could see Ginny was correct. Where Fawkes' eyes had been intense golden in colour, this Phoenix had Amethyst green eyes that appeared just as deep and intelligent. The bird looked the couple over, as if appraising them. Suddenly, at lightening speed, the bird slashed at the couple's hands with it's beak, drawing blood from each of them. Instantly it cried, the tears falling on the lacerations it had created, then settled on the table as if nothing untoward had happened, watching them. Harry and Ginny had no time to react to the pain of their palms being ripped open before they were healed again. They looked at each other, then at their hands, turning them over and flexing them as if checking their appendages retained all the digits they should have.

"It is all right my young humans, I acted thus in order that we be bonded and so you could hear the words in my song."

The voice seemed to surround them with warmth and reassurance, in a manner Harry remembered Fawkes' singing could do, he looked at the Phoenix that had just become theirs. "Welcome Phoenix, my name is Harry and this is my wife, Ginny. What do we call you, or should we name you?"

"You are the heir, by birth, of Gryffindor and his daughter's child Tigelwotta of Hvits Settlement and Hogsmeade. You are Harry, defeater of the heir of Slytherin. Ginny, you are the descendent of Leoforwic, husband of Godiva, twin of Egil, Creaftas all and sworn men of Utred Huntrodds, Lord of Tang. You are both heirs by bequest of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, I know you both. Godric was my Master, his grandson my last human bonded, they called me Flame, that name will suffice. Now descendants of Tigelwotta, Peverill, Gryffindor and Wesele you have at last united your houses with that of Bleac, it is time. Open the closet that the Tigelwotta's have protected for a thousand years, the content is now yours." The Phoenix replied.

Poppy looked wide eyed at the golden coloured bird. "I thought Fawkes was magnificent and he was, but even his feathers weren't this brilliant. That song is so wonderful, so rich, I really have missed hearing it with Fawkes gone."

Flame looked to the nurse and blinked. Harry and Ginny chuckled.

"I know what you mean Poppy, it looks like Hogwarts is going to be home to a Phoenix once more, though." Harry grinned. "Hagrid will be surprised."

The healer smiled and nodded. "He will indeed Harry, but I don't think I'll tell him about it, I'll leave it as a surprise. Anyway, I must get back there myself, now I know you are all right, have a good Christmas you two."

"And you, Poppy." They both called as she left to Floo from the lounge.

Once their friend had left, Harry and Ginny once again reached to release the hasps on the chest, Flame flashed to the top of it, deposited two metal bars, then flew to the top of the bureau to observe. The bars were about six inches long, one end curled round decoratively, while the other widened to create a disk which was bent ninety degrees to the majority of the bar, the disk pierced with a square hole.

Harry inspected the bar, then the lock on the hasp nearest him, after a few moments, grasping the barrel he inserted the disk end into the slot on the base swinging the handle through a right angle and pushed it upwards into the body of the barrel. A slight clunking noise was heard as the barrel was forced off a U shaped piece of bar, pointed at one end while the other prong had a V-shaped leaf spring on either side, which had locked it in place. Harry's key had compressed the springs allowing the lock barrel to drop off.

Seeing what her husband had done, Ginny repeated the process, then they both removed the U shaped clips from the loops fixed to the chests, swung back the hasps and lifted open the substantial lid.

There were also bundles of papers of course, it seemed there always were in family chests, Harry wondered what these meant for them, they would find out eventually, Bill would go through them later. The first book they brought out, initially appeared written in Runes, but as they lifted it out, the letters changed, morphing to form more familiar words written in English. It was by Tigelwotta and the title indicated it was either about the Creaftas, or a book of spells and pranks they had put together. One after another they removed what became a stack of books, which in common with the Creafta authored one, seemed to self translate as they were removed. Quite a few were by Hufflepuff, which contained her notes on various healing techniques, disguise methods and potions. Several books were about Ravenclaw's charms and Transfiguration work, which were followed by Gryffindor's spell books, defence books, curse and counter curse books. A book each about care of magical creatures and Muggle defence techniques by an Ulf and Erik were lifted out, again spelled to translate. The last book they found was a detailed description of the foundation of the school, which was a time with little detail in Hogwarts, A history, not only did this volume have chapter after chapter about how the school was built and run, but the last chapter concentrated on how to deal with its personality.

"These are the notes made by three of the founders, Tigelwotta bound them when he saw the Christians priests doing the same with their Holy books and records. He used magic to stitch and bind them of course whilst they worked by hand." Flame chuckled.

Harry nodded as he absently put them to one side, looking up as Ginny sharply drew a breath, and caught the one that had fallen from the top of the stack he had created.

"Harry, we are going to have to be careful with these books. These are books of legend, probably the most valuable books on the Magical world in existence." She scolded, her voice reflected awe as she gazed at the book in her hand, with a look reminiscent of Hermione. "Not just in a monetary sense either." She added.

Harry nodded at her words. He knew his wife's awe at books was not like his friend's, it was this that gave him pause to think. "That's true, we know several in the department of Mysteries who would almost literally kill to get their hands on these. Much as we have got to know the people in the Ministry, we would never see these again if they got hold of them."

"There is much knowledge in those books; it is intended for you initially, but the authors were educators too." Flame trilled from his perch.

"You're right Flame. We need to think of ways the knowledge in them can be shared. In the mean time lets put them in our room with the closet. Flame, did Slytherin make similar notes?"

"Yes Harry, they are in his vault at Gringotts, one that his descendants never bothered exploring, as it contains no gold, so it's existence was forgotten by them centuries ago. That vault now belongs to Hogwarts, though as you are the last descendant of a founder, since Salazar's family have died out, only you can access it."

"Might be as well leaving his notes there, if what the stories about him indicate are true." Ginny said firmly. "I know you knew him Flame, but all the pure blood supremacists and the last dark lord, who was also his last descendant, used him and the stories as the reason they believe they are above everyone else.

The Phoenix squawked indignantly. "He most certainly was not evil! The only reason he didn't want to teach those not raised by his own kind was to protect wizard folk, and themselves from persecution from the Christian Muggles. Even Godric knew his worry was valid, if misdirected, as it was his own apprentice that betrayed Wizard kind in the early years of the School."

The rest of the evening was spent listening to Flame tell stories about all four founders, and Hogwarts itself. They discovered that not only were assumptions on Slytherin not necessarily correct, he was a dour character, rather than evil, but there were many differences in the story of the cursed family that had been recorded, and what had actually happened. By the time the Phoenix had finished her story it was late, so they replaced everything into the chest and levitated it to their room; Flame settling on one end of Tiberius' perch, the Owl was out hunting. Harry and Ginny swiftly fell asleep, missing the arrival of their Owl to find a sleeping Phoenix at his favourite end of his perch.

* * *

Teddy had, in the last hour since he had arrived after breakfast, discovered a new source of entertainment, one his Godparents had been witnessing and been amused by all morning.

The arrival of Flame had, it seemed, put Tiberius beak out of joint a little. Used to being top avian in the lives of Harry and Ginny, the owl had been very obviously miffed at the arrival of the flashy looking newcomer. He decided that the morning after the phoenix's appearance he would show his displeasure, show the new arrival just who was top bird in this household. Harry had chuckled as he recognised the signs of a sulking owl, who was actively dropping large hints of displeasure at sharing his perch, determined to prove a point. Having woken feeling better than he had for almost a year, Harry had spotted the rivalry as soon as he had placed his glasses on his nose.

Whilst the owl sulked, Harry was further amused to notice that the phoenix seemed to be optimistically attempting to coax the owl out from its doldrums. Flame edged her way across the perch to nudge the owl, nuzzling her head against his wing, shoving gently, trying to coax the owl into beginning friendly relations. Unfortunately, the yellow eyed Strigidae was having none of it, and forcefully shrugged off Flame's friendly overtures firmly, by extending his wings, prompting the Phoenix to retreat to the other end of the perch and start the process again.

Ginny woke after Harry had observed three cycles of this behaviour.

"Morning, Harry." She smiled.

"Morning, my love," he leant over and they kissed. "Our feathered friends are getting acquainted." He had chuckled.

"Oh, how's it going?" She inquired.

"See for yourself." He answered.

It wasn't long before she too was giggling at the birds.

After a little while, they both decided to get up and get ready for the arrival of the first of the seasonal house guests they were expecting. They followed their usual morning routine, returning to the bedroom having bathed together, to find their tray of breakfast on the table waiting for them, in front of the fire.

The birds only interrupted their routine when the couple stood to go downstairs, at which point the owl flew through the open door and swooped down the stairs. Winky opened the lounge door, just in time for Tiberius to glide through. Meanwhile Flame watched, waited, then flamed to the lounge and flew round until Tiberius settled, huffily, on the back of a chair next to the table. Trilling, Flame settled next to the owl and the routine from upstairs continued, until Teddy arrived.

The growing toddler burst into the room as usual, greeting Harry and Ginny in his enthusiastic way his hair changing colour in his excitement.

As Andromeda entered at a more sedate pace, her Grandson spotted Tiberius

"Tiberius!" He exclaimed excitedly then he saw the Phoenix. "Ooh, Harry get a pawot."

The Phoenix shot the toddler a look that would have killed a basilisk, while Tiberius suddenly appeared much more cheerful, hooted at the youngster appreciatively, before hopping over to Teddy and affectionately rubbing his head on the toddlers cheek.

"Me stwoke pawot too pwees Harry." Teddy asked as he petted Tiberius head gently.

Trying not to laugh at the owls antic's Harry smiled. "Flame isn't a parrot Teddy, she is a Phoenix and we'll have to ask her if you can stroke her."

Tiberius, having received his usual greeting flew imperiously back to the chair, puffing out his chest proudly.

"Ok Harry, Fame can I stwoke you hello too pwees?" Teddy looked at the bird with pleading eye's.

The Phoenix didn't move for a moment so Harry encouraged her through the link. "Come on Flame, my godson isn't quite two yet and has never seen a Phoenix before, he didn't know what you were."

Flame replied in the same way "Very well Harry, but only because he is a young-ling" She hopped to the toddler and allowed him to pet her.

"I sowy I fought you was a pawot Fame. I'm Teddy and I like you and Tiberius too." The toddler said and changed his hair so half matched the colours of Flame, the other Tiberius.

Greeting done Flame joined Tiberius on the perch, where Flame's efforts with the owl resumed, until Tiberius flew off.

The rest of the morning the two birds dodged round the room, owl trying to avoid Phoenix, Teddy laughing at them, until just before lunch when both birds settled again on the perch.

Teddy looked determinedly at them "Tiberius and Fame be friends now?" He asked them firmly.

The two birds looked at him.

"That's what I have been trying to be with his Owliness." Flame sighed through the link.

Ginny took pity on the phoenix, "Yes I think they will be now Teddy, won't you" She looked sternly at Tiberius

The owl hooted his surrender and briefly rubbed his head against the phoenix.

Andromeda laughed "Well last year was the growing house, this year avian peace keeping, how are you two going to top it next year?"

"No idea Andromeda, might be your turn to supply the entertainment next year." Ginny giggled. "Bit livelier here at Christmas than when it was the Black's house I guess then?"

"Wouldn't know really." She replied. "We rarely came here as children, Sirius' mum preferred it that way, so we hardly knew the place."

"That's true." Sirius portrait agreed. "Mum never held with purely family parties or gatherings and the like, no political gain from it. Even I didn't know about the ballroom complex you found last year, it was never used while I was growing up here."

After lunch both Andromeda and Teddy went to their rooms for a nap, Winky keeping an eye on the youngster. Harry and Ginny dealt with some paper work from the ministry that they had brought with them from the last cabinet meeting, finishing just before Arthur and Molly's arrival. This signalled that the gathering of the family for the festivities had begun.

Next to arrive was Bill, who came straight from Gringotts, carrying more papers for Harry and Ginny.

"Thanks Bill! Are these urgent, or can they wait?" Harry asked.

"Not too urgent Harry, but we need to go through them before you go back to Hogwarts."

Harry nodded. "Good, give you chance to go through some stuff we found last night."

Bill groaned "More? Where did it come from?"

They told him about the founders closet, he chuckled. "Never a dull moment for the Potters, eh, I'll look at it all later for you."

This agreed, they settled down to await the next arrival.

They didn't have long to wait, as within minutes Petunia arrived with Horace, who was pleased to have been included. Next came Fleur with Victoire and the twins, who had spent the day with her; Delilah was carefully carrying the growing baby's crib into the room. Last to arrive was Aunt Muriel who was escorted by Charlie; she happily greeted everyone individually, assuring Teddy he was becoming a big boy, cooing over Victoire. Finally she warmly welcomed first Tarquin, then Delilah, to her family, surreptitiously slipping a chocolate frog to both of them, much to their delight.

Dudley, George, Ron and Hermione would arrive in a couple of days with Maria, once Wheezes had closed for Christmas. In the meantime, Dudley, Ron, George and the team were busy fulfilling Christmas orders.

Winky and Kreacher fussed over providing drinks for everyone then went to take luggage up to the rooms. Kreacher showed Winky how to lock the house's room of requirement to ensure that it would default back to the extra suites of rooms for the guests after any other uses over the holiday.

Dinner that night was a noisy affair, following which Horace retired back to Hogwarts to prepare for his traditional gathering of the slug club the next day; he would return for Christmas. His departure was the cue for Andromeda, Molly and Fleur to start quizzing Petunia about her friendship with the professor.

Hearing a "girly" conversation starting, the men swiftly withdrew. Arthur went to bring Hermione's parents who were closing their surgery for the festive period, a locum would be on call for any emergencies. The others headed to the workshop where they reviewed what they could next restore from various machines stored next to the Daimler and Dudley's car. About an hour later only Bill and Harry remained, sat on the benches in the stern of the steam boat, drinking butter beer from bottles. This was where Ginny found them discussing the possibility of taking the boat to Hogwarts to sail on the Black Lake.

"So this is where you disappeared to," she teased. "Come on, Dad and the Granger's will be here in a minute; if Dad and Mr. Granger come in here tonight, I doubt either will survive the wrath of Mum or Mrs. Granger. I've had Kreacher set a tray for the Granger's by the way; I know they said they wouldn't want anything, but they are running late so they may not have eaten as planned."

Harry and Bill followed her back upstairs where only Fleur remained as they waited for the last arrival of the day.

The next day Harry and Ginny took Teddy to Diagon Alley to see Father Christmas, Bill and Fleur went with them to take Victoire for the first time. Both Delilah and Tarquin had claimed to be too old, until they reached the front of the queue, when both had eagerly gone to speak with the jolly red suited man. Andromeda and Petunia got on with some Christmas shopping in the alley while they could, meeting the Santa delegation at Florean's before they all went home to help the elves with the decorations.

Even Muriel had eagerly set off with the Granger's who had taken the other Weasley's into Muggle London to shop. They had gone early, knowing that crowds would hold them up, as would Arthur, while they wandered Regent Street then Oxford street and the shops along them. They were not expected back until late afternoon, at the very earliest.

The next few days passed in a bit of a whirlwind of Ministry parties for Harry and Ginny. They joined Ron, Hermione and Neville as the departments they worked with celebrated the season. Luna was still travelling in South America; she and Neville had recently decided to end their relationship, but remain very close friends.

The Ministry Ball, on the day before Christmas eve, was, this year, a family affair so the whole household attended. It was, as always, a spectacular affair, and more than just a dance. In one room were the entertainments for the children, including Muggle party games, usually with a magical twist. Although, when pass the parcel became "Chase the parcel that's grown eight legs and is trying to escape," it was agreed that perhaps more thought into the magical part would have been good, even though the youngsters had thought that part hilarious.

Harry and Ginny visited his parents' grave on Christmas eve; Dudley arrived that morning in time to join them with his mother, for his first visit to the village. They were accompanied by Andromeda and Teddy again this year, but with Charlie and Percy joining them as well. Again, the Gresley's and other villagers ensured the family could conduct their visit with minimum disruption. The vicar of the church spotted the Gresley's watching the young couple and party, and came to wish them well. Harry took the opportunity to ask if it would be possible to erect a memorial stone next to his parents' grave for Sirius, explaining there could be no grave for his Godfather as there was no body to bury.

The vicar was a little taken aback at the request which was unusual, but readily agreed none-the-less. They arranged to meet and finalise the details after the festive season, when both would have more time. After visiting the house and memorial, which Dudley had wanted to see, the group returned to Grimmauld Place to begin the celebration of Christmas.

Hermione took the opportunity to speak with her parents about what she had discovered so far. With Ron, they all settled in the drawing room, where a very old chest had been placed on the table. Runic symbols were carved into the side, amongst ornate depictions of all manner of beasts, including eight legged horses surrounding a Norse style ship in front of what looked like Hogwarts castle. Hermione ignored the chest, and began by telling them the results of her own researches, her parents stopping her to ask questions occasionally, and to make suggestions on other avenues her findings could have opened up.

Eventually she told them of receiving the Gringotts letter. "After receiving it, I quickly sorted through my papers on the desk, ensuring none of my research ones were mixed with work ones, then Flooed to Gringotts where I met Godroc. It seems that my impending marriage to Ron automatically caused a search of their records to create a family tree to be instigated. They check any other surnames that appear against their vault catalogue and their own inheritance records to see if there are any unclaimed vaults I am entitled to."

Her father looked at her. "I take it they found one?" he smiled nodding to the chest.

"Yes!" She affirmed." Just one, it was magically sealed once Utred and Frayja died, it could only be reopened by a descendant of theirs who is magical. Most of the gold went to their children of course, as well as Muggle lands they were legally entitled to. All that is long gone, dispersed amongst many descendants, or as in the case of the Lands at Tang and some other lands in Yorkshire, sold off centuries ago. However, we do now have some Land in Godric's Hollow, and Hogsmeade By the way Ron, we shall be getting our payments on Titch Marsh cottage back, as it's Huntrodds property, so mine any way."

Ron's eyes widened in surprise.

Hermione continued. "We also own some land gifted to us by Constantine the second of Scotland as well. Besides that, the titles Utred held come to us, but because the laws of the time dictate they can only be held by males, they will go to our sons if we have any."

"And not too soon; I, for one, am not quite ready to be a grandma" Her mum grinned.

Ron blushed deeply at that comment; Hermione rolled her eyes. "Mum, we aren't quite ready to be parents either. Shall I continue?"

Her parents laughed and nodded, Hermione slipped her hand into Ron's. "I think we have enough titles anyway, but it's nice to know about these anyway," she continued. "So, to recap, I now own land in Wales and a chunk of Scotland, close to Hogwarts, and when we are married Ron will also become part owner of course. Now in the vault were a number of artefacts, there are a number of chests of jewellery, weapons and other belongings. This chest was also in there; it contains all the paperwork on Utred's properties as well as his father's ring."

She opened the chest for them all. "I haven't been through it all, but there are two issues with it that are puzzling to say the least. Utred's sword is missing, and there was a more recent note inside the chest, placed on top of everything. It's in English; Utred could read and write, but in Runes, and he spoke a mixture of Saxon and Norse as did most people then; he had never heard English, the language has we know it did not exist while he lived, so we know the note is more recent. The puzzle is how it got there, study of the wards on the vault show no one has entered in a millennium. Anyway, the Goblins are up in arms about it all, they fear some sort of hole in the security of the bank."

She took a piece of parchment from the chest and read.

"To my descendant, after five hundred years, the school my mentor owned and with three friends has fallen into debauchery and is no longer teaching its charges in the spirit the school was founded for; its occupants no long deserve the complete protection I saw my mentors give it. I have taken the shield of Gryffindor, I shall keep it protected and safe, in the hope that one day the occupants of the castle we built shall return to learning with honour. Only when that has happened shall I seek ways to return it, though I expect the only way will be through you no matter if matters are corrected before then. We shall meet on your fulfilment of your destiny, at the grave of your joined ancestors. You must find, and fulfil, the ritual discovered by Salazar as prescribed by Godric, and left with his family, my fellow Creafta and sworn man Tigelwotta. My wife Frayja foresaw you would know his heir. If I find in you and those who accompany you, that the school has indeed returned to proper manner, then I will return all it has lost; if not, then it shall be lost forever, just as if you fail in your destiny I and all your ancestors shall be. Frayja will come to you as the time draws near, she at least can move between the two realms.

Utred Huntrodds Lord of Tang, Creafta, Guardian of Hogwarts. "

There was silence for a moment as they all digested what she had read out.

Ron finally spoke. "Well we know the shield went missing, now we know who took it, the spirit of Utred. We also know where to look for more information, Harry is the heir of Tigelwotta."

"And we saw Lady Frayja at Halloween; her ghost visited us, remember?" Hermione noted.

Ron nodded; Mr. Granger sighed, "There's another thing, until you came into this world I was quite happy believing things like ghosts didn't exist. You ruin all my self assurances you know." he grinned.

"I know Daddy."Hermione grinned and went to hug him. "Don't worry though, I love you enough to try to restore one of your lost beliefs too." She kissed him on the top of the head tenderly.

"Oh, and which one is that, oh fair daughter of mine?" He grinned hugging her.

She stepped back a little, looked him in the eye and dead panned as she said "Why father dear, as a dentist, you really ought to meet the tooth fairy, if I can find her."

Compared with the year before it was relatively quiet at Grimmauld Place on Christmas day, there were no further rooms to discover in the house which removed some of the excitement, although the family was a few people larger, meaning more noise and participants at the Quidditch match. Petunia and Dudley had thought their past Christmas's had been good, but they had never had one with so many people, especially people who were so happy to be in each others company, they both joined in with gusto.

Almost all were surprised to see another side to Horace, though. He was not quite as lively, nor was he his usual ebullient, life and soul of the party self. He still enjoyed himself certainly, but if he could, he avoided getting anywhere near Muriel, who, when looking at him, had a strange gleam in her eye that went with an odd grin that would appear, making her look like a predator who was certain their prey was well and truly trapped.

Whenever the potions master came near, the same look would appear, and he would rapidly walk away. It was almost as if she knew something about "Young Sluggy." As she insisted on gleefully calling him, much to his embarrassment by his reaction.

Muriel teasing Horace both intrigued and amused all those who had been taught by him during his career. The intrigue would remain however, as both parties refused to reveal what was going on between them.

When asked she replied. "Poor Sluggy, it was funny for the rest of us, even if not him." With a smirk of mischief.

He would respond "I had no idea it would do that." With a sigh of defeat, but would not elaborate while Muriel grinned even more widely, a small giggle raising a horrified look on his face.

Luckily for Horace, there was enough going on that it was not hard for him to avoid Muriel between meals, so he could still enjoy the festivities.

Maria arrived on boxing day, she and Dudley spent the day showing each other their own sides of London. Kingsley and Minerva arriving back with them that evening as planned for dinner.

Harry and Ginny spent the day with the twins and Teddy, the afternoon taken up with the first annual Potter Weasley indoor Quidditch rematch, as George called it. Even Percy joined the game, though of course, Hermione didn't, so stayed with Fleur, Victoire and Teddy watching with the older guests present. The four-a-side teams were made up of Harry, Ron, Delilah and Bill, against Ginny, Percy, Tarquin and Charlie. Only one Bludger was used, and Ron and Percy kept goal for their respective teams. Harry and Charlie were of course seekers, both relishing going up against each other.

The next day, the twins reminded Dudley he had promised them a proper ride in his car; Maria suggested a trip to London zoo. Dudley saw he was being ganged up on and agreed after only a little persuasion. Charlie asked if he could tag along, eager to see how Muggles looked after captive animals.

On their return, the twins were excited about their day, just as children younger than they, would have been. Mainly because they believed they had discovered something that Dudley was scared of.

"Charlie and Maria took us into the reptile house..." Tarquin began.

"...Dudley waited outside, refusing to go in." Continued Delilah wide eyed.

"Kept muttering something about big snakes..."The boy added.

"...and disappearing glass." His sister concluded then looked puzzled "But, there was no missing glass or big snakes."

"Oh, Merlin!" Harry began to laugh. "I had forgotten about that."

"I hadn't!" Muttered a slowly reddening, embarrassed Dudley.

Petunia suddenly remembered and gasped "Oh my goodness yes, I remember, your birthday treat when you turned eleven was to go to London zoo wasn't it Dud?" She burst into laughter

"Mum!" A shocked Dudley look at her amazed.

Petunia calmed for a moment. "Oh I'm sorry Dud, but looking back, you splashing about in that little pool did look funny, even if I didn't see it at the time. You looked like a turtle on it's back, splashing about trying to right itself." Then with a look of glee in her eyes, she burst into laughter again.

The twins looked at each other and burst into gales of laughter.

Maria looked between Dudley and Harry intrigued. "Is this some regular impulse I need to be aware of, should I keep you away from little pools of water Dud?" She asked a wry grin on her face.

Dudley looked at her appalled, then saw her face as she tried not to laugh, he could hold his sullen expression no longer, he too began to laugh.

Once Harry had calmed enough to speak again, he looked to his cousin, who was now a friend as well and asked. "You know that was an accident, don't you Dud? I didn't intend for it to happen, it was what's called accidental magic, I didn't even have a wand then."

His cousin sighed through his tears of laughter. "Yes I do now, certainly didn't then. It was a hell of a birthday treat that trip though."

For the first time Harry heard the tale from Dudley's point of view as his cousin recounted the story, to the amusement of all.

The cordial relationship between Tiberius and Flame occasionally broke down, usually when the Phoenix decided to prick the owl's dignified bubble, at which point avian mayhem usually ensued. The two didn't actually fight, but a game of chase round the house usually led to an entertaining display. It seemed the two birds had, in fact, settled into an amicable understanding though, at least, that is what Flame told Harry and Ginny. It was clear that whilst Tiberius took his responsibility very seriously, Flame felt the owl needed to learn how to relax a bit.

The humans in the house enjoyed time in Muggle London, where the Magicals were surprised to discover that the Muggles were preparing to not just celebrate a new year, but a new Millennium too.

Arthur discussed this with Petunia one evening amazed that Muggles seemingly couldn't add up.

"Arthur," Petunia responded "I agree with you, there was no year zero so the new millennium would start next year not this. However there has been similar debate in the Muggle world, I think it's a case of it changing from nineteen ninety nine to two thousand that governments see as significant. The dome will be open all year though."

"The what?" Had been Arthur's response.

Petunia and Dudley spent the next couple of hours describing, as they had no party to organise to see in the New Year, the household decided they wanted to see something of what the two knew of the planned celebrations in the capital. The Granger's knew some more from newspaper, reports, but it was decided that as Harry and Ginny were taking Teddy and the twins to the London transport museum, they would be the ones to obtained definitive information, so the family could decide what they might attend.

Teddy and the twins thoroughly enjoyed exploring everything in the transport museum and found plenty of information on the celebrations planned for welcoming the year two thousand. It seemed public celebrations would be divided between Trafalgar Square, as was traditional, and a firework display centred on the new big wheel erected beside the river. The most intriguing part of the display was the planned river of fire, which the leaflets claimed, would mean the Thames would appear to be covered in flame. It had, however, taken quite some time to convince Molly that they wouldn't all become ill because of the expected Millennium Bug mentioned in one of the leaflets. Trying to explain it would only affect computers and such devices if anything at all, then led to having to explain what they were, giving Petunia an insight into just how little was known about technology by adult Witches and Wizards. She wondered if there would be any way to help resolve that situation, she would speak with Harry, Minerva and Horace about it once they got back to Hogwarts. Meanwhile she helped explain things to Molly, who was reassured after awhile, even if she could not comprehend much about the technology, she happily agreed they should join the Muggles next to the river Thames to see how they set it on fire. Petunia and Dudley offered to take her and any of them who wanted, to a library to see how computers worked.

They arrived on the Embankment quite late in the evening to find hoards of people lining the river, Arthur was excited to see the ingenuity of the Muggles in action for the celebration. They managed to spot an area clear of people and quickly made there way towards it with the children, without resorting to magic to clear a space from where they could watch. Along the centre line of the river was a line of barges bristling with fireworks. The back drop of the large observation wheel with it's large capsules appeared to be the focus of attention. Some big screens which showed celebrations around the world were, however, the focus for Arthur, he was spell bound by them.

"I thought Muggles needed a projector inside a building to make moving pictures that size?" He asked in awe at the images.

Dudley shook his head. "No, Mr. Weasley, though there are still cinemas where that happens, but these screens are basically big televisions, looks like they are showing the celebrations round the world, some will be recordings others live."

Arthur's eyes lit up. "Oh yes, those are those box things they have in their houses aren't they? What do you mean live? You mean some of those things are happening right now?"

Dudley nodded. "Yes, via satellite most likely, craft in orbit around the planet used for communications as well as other things, don't worry I'll explain that later, maybe a trip to the science museum sometime." He smiled.

This was not the first thing Dudley had explained to the older man, nor was it the last, the younger man patiently answered each question as fully as he could. Each answer was delivered in tones hopefully not noticed outside the group; they were trying to blend in after all.

The crowd had grown, and was still swelling in number, as the midnight hour approached; all were in friendly celebratory mood, mostly helped along by ingestion of alcohol. The big screen was showing events in Paris, which was an hour ahead of London, where celebrations revolved around the Eiffel Tower, the fireworks there were spectacular, utilising the tower as a launch platform. Coverage on the screen changed once the French fireworks ended, now it showed scenes from Edinburgh, and the Millennium Dome, where numerous dignitaries were assembling, as well as the wheel they were at.

A few minutes before midnight the image changed to the clock on the Clock Tower, the home of the bell called Big Ben. As the minutes passed a silence of anticipation fell over the excited crowds, tension growing as the familiar Westminster Chime was rung out on the bells in the seconds before midnight, then the tone of the bell of Big Ben marked the hour. They clearly heard the first chime, but no more, the rest were drowned out by the crowd who loudly cheered the new year in, the noise almost masking the explosion of the first shell of a spectacular fire works display above them.

Both river and wheel were used as platforms for the display, which was truly spectacular, if lacking the inventiveness of a Weasley display, though from overhear conversations, no one seemed to have seen the river on fire once the display was complete. The crowd lapped it up, many were worse for drink, but the atmosphere remained one of camaraderie, united in celebration. Hearing and participating in the singing of Auld Lang's Syne by so many people was memorable and somewhat reminiscent of the singing of the Hogwarts song though on a larger scale although at least all were, roughly, using the same tune. The variety of speeds, and number of, sometimes wildly, off key notes was most likely the result of over exuberance, combined with a lack of sobriety of the singer, rather than any other reason. The party from Grimmauld Place thoroughly enjoyed the celebrations, which continued for quite a while after the display, it was in fact still going on when they slipped into a quiet alleyway and used a Portkey to take them home.

Most of the occupants of Grimmauld Place rose late on New Year's Day, much to the amusement of the twins and Andromeda who, along with Teddy, had remained at home the night before. They had risen at their usual time and enjoyed a quiet house while the others slept. Tiberius and Flame had, it appeared, finally reached a lasting understanding, and were sat calmly on their perches in the living room. The Daily Prophet lay on the sofa when Harry entered the room, he sat down and glanced at the headline, which called into question the Muggles decision to celebrate the turn of the century one year early. The photograph showed the wheel with fireworks radiating from it, it looked like it was probably taken from the roof of St Mungo's.

* * *

Ron and Hermione returned to Titchmarsh cottage on the second of January, they sat cuddling in the sitting room. Ron noticed that Hermione still stared at the picture; he knew that soon they would be revisiting Whitby.

He sighed "'Mione, did you get any more on the Huntrodds from Harry and Ginny love?"

She jumped at his words her mind had obviously been miles away "What? Oh yes I have more to read and Flame has told them what he can for now, he says he will be happy to talk more after I have read what Tigelwotta and Godric left in that closet."

"Good, hopefully you are getting closer to the answer and we can do what you need to do." He sighed.

* * *

Harry and Ginny's return to the school with a Phoenix caused a stir amongst the pupils, the older students remembered the phoenix at Dumbledore's funeral and wondered if it were the same one. The younger students were simply amazed by the large bird that either sat on a perch in the defence class room or rode on one of the professors Potter shoulder around the school on occasion.

Ginny had totally revamped the sports lessons by linking them with other classes especially Muggle studies. Of course she still assisted in the training of the Quidditch teams, and the first years still had flying classes, but the other years were learning all manner of different sports. Even so, hers was not the subject which had seen most change.

Petunia had settled into teaching with few problems and those that there were, having more to do with her not having magic rather than anything else. She and Horace were enjoying their friendship. They had long since agreed that neither wanted a romantic relationship, rather simple companionship. They spent many an evening talking over drinks, preparing the next get together of Horace's favoured students.

Over the last few months as her confidence had grown, she had totally re-worked the entire curriculum for Muggle studies. When she started it was obvious to her that the subject was woefully outdated and pointless, despite Hermione's efforts to update it, quite simply she had not had enough time to make as much difference as Petunia knew the she would have liked. Now, through discussions with her predecessor and Minerva, she was instituting radical change, completely with their support and encouragement. Her lessons had become more and more interesting to the students; as she had learned more of Wizarding Britain, she was able to adjust her lesson plans to make them more relevant to how things were done in the magical world. The lessons alternated between academic, when subjects such as Muggle history and science would be taught. The practical lessons in between concentrated on passing as a Muggle in dress and behaviour. Teaching the Wizarding students how to safely cross the road without magic was, to say the least, interesting, those who had barely seen the Muggle world had difficulty with the concept of anything man made, that wasn't a train, travelling at speeds that could kill someone. They were even more incredulous that such contraptions were not just allowed to be operated close to pedestrians, but were considered so normal that their passing at potentially lethal speeds was barely considered. She knew that she had an up hill journey to help the students learn how to interact safely in the mundane parts of society, she was glad when Harry and Neville helped by setting up the room of requirement to enable her to create different scenarios for her lessons. This had meant that, in the end, teaching how to safely cross a road became much simpler, although getting some of them over their fear of the cars enough to not flinch whenever they passed had taken a while.

Learning about the magical world had greatly helped her to teach things she would otherwise assume the students would know as basic skills. As she learnt, they had explored how Muggles managed each day without magic. Topics such as cooking and transport for Muggles took on a whole new relevance to her, and the students, as a result. Many wizard-born had found dealing with Muggle money as scary as the Muggleborn found learning how to deal with Galleons, Sickles and Knuts when they first arrived in Diagon Alley. Her newly learnt knowledge of the Wizarding world had helped her realise that part of the problem for those from Magical Britain was that sterling was not made of gold, silver or bronze. It was made of what seemed to be worthless paper and alloys to the wizard raised. At first, they had difficulty understanding that the tokens had value simply because of what was stamped or printed on them, not what they were made of any more Learning about how easily such tokens could be conjured or transfigured helped identify where the Wizard born's disbelief was coming from. So, with the help of those used to it, as well as a visit from a Gringotts Goblin who discussed the exchange rate and how the two economies interacted, all of them soon became confident that Pounds and Pence were real money and in their use. Even the different coins and notes made by the three banks in Scotland and those of Northern Ireland now held no mystery. The lessons were growing more and more popular amongst the students, the subject now seen as relevant and exciting, rather than as the bit of a joke it had been before.

The changes had been so effective in enthusing them that unknown to the students, the governors and Minister had agreed to allow them on a field trip to experience a small Muggle city which had a Wizarding hotel and community in it's centre. It was a historic city, usually very full of visitors, so a group of students was not an unusual sight on it's streets, so it was expected they would all blend in well and would benefit from the visit which would take place early in the Easter holiday.

* * *

 **10th Century**

Utred had been surprised that upon his arrival back at Hogwarts, Salazar had been waiting for his arrival, approached him quickly, before the young Lord could speak with anyone else. The founder made sure he had received the message he had sent him, then arranged for them to meet that evening, so he could discuss what was on his mind. Although the two had never been close friends, they both worked well together and respected each other, even so the urgency of the request and actions of the founder were so out of his usual calm, controlled character, that the young Lord knew it had to be a matter of some seriousness. After briefing the King's council on his troops activities whilst on patrol, a meal with Godric and the Creaftas who were not elsewhere, Utred left with Erik, Ulf and Orin, to the entrance of the Slytherin students rooms with their outlook beneath the waters of the lake, which were held back by wards powered from the magic of the occupants.

Slytherin's apprentices looked up as they entered the subterranean rooms, but were certainly not surprised. It may have been quite a while since Utred had visited the common room, but like the other houses social area, it was open for others to visit. As they entered the room, one of the older students approached them.

"Welcome to our common room, Salazar told us to expect you, he will be here soon, Lord Utred. Please, come and join us while you wait." The student indicated a seating area near the fireplace.

Utred led his three longest serving sworn men to the seats where they all sat, with a few of the cunning founders students.

"We were discussing Salazar's concerns about Muggleborn students entering the school Lord Utred. Trying to work out if we had observed any difficulties for them integrating into our world." One of the students told them. "I wonder if you found any difficulty adapting when you arrived?"

Utred snorted." Not really, although I had discovered that my family and friends had been murdered only a few hours earlier, which was the hardest part to adapt to really. I also arrived here in the early days of the school, the first student of Godric's, so it wasn't as difficult as it could have been, as for settling here, though I had seen my home at Tang destroyed I had also fought off invaders at our Thwing Estate, alongside Godric. So this place very soon became home to me, mourning for my family may have masked any other difficulties I suppose. "

The students were happy with that, it seemed.

"That's an interesting answer, Lord Utred." A familiar voice smiled behind him. "I wonder though, if we were quite ready for you back then?" He added humorously.

"Good question, Salazar." Utred laughed. "Our arrival, as I recall, certainly made its mark with you."

Orin, Ulf and Erik laughed, the elder of them being the first to recover.

"You did get a new pair of shoes out of it, though." He reminded the founder.

This caused a new bout of laughter from the four, whilst Salazar rolled his eyes. "Aye that it did lad, but it meant that Muggle Durslieg got some gold out of you, didn't it."

"The only gold or silver he ever got out of me too, the ignorant slob." Utred grinned. "I never worked out how Godric got it all through even those wards, to land right next to you like that. Certainly couldn't do it with our wards now, hell of a good prank at the time though."

Salazar huffed at the continued teasing."Just because Godric decided to transport a whole hunting lodge, complete with contents and weak bowelled horses attached outside, doesn't mean his aim was good. Those poor animals were scared silly, I'm surprised they ever recovered."

"They would never go near the lodge again, put it that way." Erik grinned. "Even now they won't, still good horses though."

The students had watched this unexpected, good natured banter with interest, but they weren't in Slytherin's house for nothing. Some tried to hide their laughter, whilst other's jaws fell open as they realised what must have happened to ruin their mentors shoes. All were reading the situation between the men, interpreting it to gain an insight to the relationships between them. They realised that what they were seeing between these men was more than they had shown previously, it was clearly not merely one between colleagues either, many looked on in amazement as they realised the relationship may not be as strained as they had thought.

Salazar ignored the reactions of his students. "In any case, you are living proof that I am right to question bringing Muggleborns directly here from their homes amongst Muggles. You, my dear Lord Utred, knew nothing of Wizarding customs, or caution. You have created chaos since your arrival, not least with the castle. Thanks to your error, the castle has a consciousness, a mistake entirely made because you are Muggleborn and did not fully understand the consequences of your action, as a pure blood, raised among Wizard kind, would have." The founder grinned slyly, he was not above teasing the Lord when he got the opportunity.

"Not to mention the moving stairs, eh Salazar" Utred grinned, recognising the attempt to needle him as well as regurgitating old arguments. "Anyway, you wanted to see us Salazar, which tells me it is not to reminisce, but for rather more serious reasons."

Salazar's demeanour instantly changed and he became his usual serious self. "Indeed, I have much to tell you, not least of which is the details of my vow to Styr."

Utred reacted suddenly and angrily. "What?" He asked shocked, his wand suddenly in his hand.

Erik, Ulf reacted by drawing their swords, the Slytherin students gaped at the reactions of the trio, slowly comprehending it. Some began to draw their wands to defend their mentor.

"No." Slytherin shouted to the students, "Wands away, now."

The students knew better than to argue with him, but kept a wary eye on the four visitors to their common room.

Salazar lifted his hands showing they were empty. "Orin knows of this Utred, as do the other founders, I believe it is simply time you understood too. Please trust me, I know we don't always see eye to eye and have certainly never become close friends, but we have always respected each others abilities, we share a loyalty to this school as well as our kind. We may annoy each other my Lord, but we have fought side by side on occasion, worked next to each often, trusted one another frequently, all I ask is that you trust that I mean you know harm now. I give you my oath that you will come to no harm and that my motives are to fore warn you and aid you, nothing more."

Utred nodded in acknowledgement, clearly still uncertain what the man wanted, he would remain guarded until he was.

All the students in the room were taken aback at the founder's words, stunned that their house master would make such a statement. It was certainly true that the Lord of Tang and the founder had disagreed, many times, both in private and in public, not least over the moving and trick stairs, not to mention the other Creafta adaptations and antics. Even so it was also clear that each respected the other and worked well together. Even so, for Salazar to speak in such terms, for him to give his oath so easily, was an indication of how serious the matter he wanted to speak about was. They all knew the weight of such an oath, it was not something done lightly by anyone, even among Muggles oaths were not made lightly, clearly the founder felt his honour was at stake. Their surprise at what had been said thus far was nothing to how the observers reacted to his next words.

"As a sign of my trust in you my Lord, I suggest we could adjourn to my chamber, the place where I share the secrets of my students house lessons and home to my most trusted companion."

His students stared at him as if he had lost his mind, they all knew these secrets of course, but they were his apprentices, this was the secret of their house, the mystery that would not be revealed to any outsider. For their head of house, who had created the place for his students alone, to chose to share it with these outsiders either demonstrated how much their mentor trusted these men, or alternatively, that he had gone mad. Although they were unsure which of the two it was yet, none of them argued, it was after all his choice who would have access. They simply followed on, as Salazar led Utred and his escort towards the corridor they knew held the entrance to Slytherin's chamber and the secret he had, until now, only shared with his students and the other founders. They reached the second floor room, and Salazar waited until the door shut, before he spoke strange words of strangely sibilant pronunciation. The floor they were stood on began to sink.

Utred swore loudly, Salazar looked at him, slightly grinning. "For a man who made moving staircases, how can a sinking floor worry you?" He grinned, earning another bout of expletives that called his parentage into question in return.

The young Lord Laughed as well. "You do this, yet threaten to decapitate us for our pranks." Utred grinned. "Why Salazar, anyone would think you were just worried we came up with an idea before you did." He teased, whilst the students laughed.

"My patience has paid off though Lord Utred." The founder said smugly. "My revenge, small as it may be, was well worth the wait."

It seemed that Salazar was enjoying getting one over on Utred, in return for some of the pranks he had been the victim of over the years, revenge which the young Lord took in good heart.

It was not long before they reached the bottom of the shaft, and the older wizard led them into a tunnel. As they followed, torches fixed to the walls lit as they approached them, illuminating the rough cut walls and ceiling. Reaching a second door, again Salazar spoke in that sibilant tongue; this time Utred recognised it.

"I didn't know you knew Parseltongue, Salazar." He commented casually.

"No, few outside my house do; it enables me to receive information and have sources few would suspect." Salazar grinned, as he made his way through the now open door into the chambers beyond.

Utred laughed as well, "Good one Salazar, very useful. Of course, if the Christians found out and caught you, I dread to think what would happen to you." Utred added as he followed through the door.

The chamber they entered was a long brightly lit room of fresh cut stone, the centre area was clear, allowing room for the whole house to gather. Towering stone pillars entwined with serpents, rose along the sides of the open area to a high ceiling, work stations were placed between them for small groups and individuals to study. They saw a small library and a potions area amongst the stations, what appeared to be a social area was at the far end, beneath a tall statue of Slytherin himself that towered over the chamber.

Salazar could see Utred was about to make comment on the statue, from the smirk on the young Lords face, so spoke before he could."That's one of the things I must speak with you about, Lord Utred."

Utred stopped and stared at the mentor, the smirk gone from his face as he considered both the words and tone they were delivered in. Was that fear, regret even, in the voice of the calmest man he knew? A look at the man's face told the younger he was right and this man, who was the nearest to a wizard fundamentalist that he knew, actually needed his help. He needed assistance from a Muggleborn, the very kind of student Salazar refused in his own house, no matter what. Despite their disagreements there was no way Utred would refuse to help if he could, they were both Wizards after all. The young Lord was sure now, whatever oaths the founder had taken, he had not brought him here to cause harm.

"Salazar, what is it? If I can, you know I will help." Utred gently tried to assure the man.

"I don't think you can in some respects Utred, it has to do with my past. Come, I will explain all and introduce you to my familiar." Salazar sighed gently.

The Slytherin students muttered among themselves, they wondered what their mentor was playing at. This chamber and its contents were their secret, this place was where they learnt directly from him. His familiar was to guard them during their studies, bringing Utred here was puzzling, bringing a squib and two Muggles was almost incomprehensible.

The oldest student finally could stand no more. "I thought this chamber was only for your students my mentor; why do you show it to these people, how does it benefit us?" He asked accusingly.

"Because, despite their blood, they have proved that they are more than worthy. Blood is not all that matter's, we are all pure bloods true, but not the only ones. I may not accept those of other blood as my apprentices, but that is not because of what flows through their veins, but because of their upbringing without knowledge of what they are. Should they be taught to use their abilities, trained in Magic? Of course, but it is too big a risk to bring them here in my opinion. Pupil, you must learn to recognise when someone may appear to be an enemy is in fact your friend, and when they are truly opposed to you, these men and I may have our differences, but they are not my, or your enemies. This is one reason you need to work with those it is useful to, no matter your feelings for them. If they fight for the same cause, then your personal differences are nothing. You all need to recognise when it is time to set aside petty rivalries and work together for our collective benefit. This does not mean our secret will be revealed to all, this is my chamber, I will decide who will be brought here. Though from today, if any of you wish to bring others here, you may ask me to consider the individual, my decision however, will be final."

The pupil's indignation subsided. "My apologies, my mentor, I meant no disrespect by my words." He said humbly.

"I know my apprentice, so long as the lesson is learnt." The man smiled.

The student nodded once, then stepped back respectfully.

Salazar looked to Utred, Orin, Ulf and Erik. "As you can tell, you are the first who are not of my house to be allowed access here, it seems a mite unsettling for some. It has to be admitted, I am not exactly behaving as they might expect me to, but as Godric says, such unexpected events add interest to life for those around to see them. That all said, while each of my students learns to mimic the words I used to enter here, I have yet to decide if I will allow you that privilege. Nothing personal you understand, but this is the lair of my familiar, who, because I am here will remain calm and will not attack, she can be a touch temperamental with strangers though. Understand the being who you are about to meet is young, but her venom and stare are already fatal." Salazar told them, then led the group towards a partly carved sculpture. "Please remain calm whilst my familiar enters, if you startle her she will attack." Salazar spoke once more in the sibilant language and a section of the large sculpture of himself moved down to create an opening.

Utred looked to his three men of Tang. "Given that Salazar spoke the language of serpents, my guess is his familiar will be one, though knowing Sal, probably not an ordinary one, if his warning is anything to go by. Hands on pommels as a precaution I think, but only use them if any of us are threatened directly, we can afford no accidents."

The three nodded and almost imperceptibly, each placed his hand on the pommel of his sword as they watched the movement apparent within the chamber that had opened in the massive stone sculpture.

The head of the beast appeared, it was about the same size as a man's head; it's body, covered in vivid green scales, was about ten feet long and only a little thinner than the head. It's piercing bright yellow eyes reflecting deadly danger, it's tongue flicking in and out tasting the air, the young Basilisk slid across the floor to Salazar, hissing a greeting.

Utred stared, wide eyed with enthusiasm. "I've wanted to see one of the king of serpents since I learnt they existed. This is certainly a beautiful example, Salazar"

The snake hissed and Salazar chuckled before hissing back, the serpent slid over to the Creafta and smelt him on her tongue.

"She says she thanks you Utred, your comment is appreciated. Even though you cannot understand her, she understands you perfectly and me of course, which means she knows that I translate for her correctly, she would be greatly offended if I didn't. Perhaps I should introduce you properly, this is Septimus, my familiar, named for a Roman Emperor." Salazar explained, then with a wicked grin added. "She enjoys the masculine name of the ancient ruler, though that is all either of us know of him. I've had her for ten years now, she is a baby by the standard of her species, not yet one hundred years old."

"I thought to look in a Basilisks eyes meant death?" Orin asked "I take it I was taught wrongly."

"There is no need to worry, a Basilisk's look can only kill if they intend to, although I, or my heirs, could order her to do so to. Naturally, it is a hunting or defence mechanism, used to get food or to protect their territory." Salazar told them "For Septimus, Hogwarts is her dominion, she will defend the castle, even if I weren't here, against any physical threat. However, she is only part of the reason we are here. Come, I don't want to be overheard by any I do not intend to hear our conversation."

The founder led them through the opening through which Septimus had appeared and along a short corridor to a door which he opened. They followed him in as Septimus slid past, heading further down the hallway.

"She fed out in the forest yesterday, so probably feels lazy today, she will go and rest in her chamber." Salazar chuckled, indicating for them all to sit, once they were in the small stone walled room.

"As I said up in the castle, I am subject to a magically binding oath that ties me to Styr, as my first student. We are bound to never harm each other and avenge the death of each other if it was by violent, or non natural means. You, Lord Utred, are sworn to kill my former student in vengeance for what he has done to your family, quite rightly in my opinion, I might add. In addition to this, I find myself on the opposite side to my student in a war, a war that is largely of his own creation, one we must win, and he must lose, to preserve our race as a free one. From all reports, Styr leads a large, capable army; we know Constantine leads another hopefully stronger army. In these circumstances, I believe my former student is likely to suffer a violent death when the two armies meet and when he does, under the terms of my oath, I must avenge him."

Utred nodded his understanding. "I know of such oaths, Godric and I share one, though because when we made it we were both lords, we did not swear vengeance, but to defend each other to the death. Would Styr release you from the earlier oath in favour of a new one, Salazar?"

The founder considered for a moment then shook his head "No Utred, I don't believe he would, he knows you are here, he would believe our existing oath would best protect him from you and our army. In any case, unless any new oath were to kill you and much as you annoy me at times, I could not fulfil that oath, I fear any new one would not be possible. Not least as I have another oath I made to Godric to protect those who live on his land, that is just as binding anyway."

Again Utred nodded, he could see Salazar's dilemma. "So you have one oath that says you must avenge the usurper in kind, but if I were to fulfil my oath to avenge my parents by killing him, you have another that says you must protect me conflicting with the first?"

"Yes, so long as you are not attacking me or Godric's lands of course. There are also the natural laws of magic to consider as well, your seeking vengeance is just, it is after all simply seeking justice, after what Styr did to your family. Add to that his actions to wizard-kind in general and I believe this all muddies the waters further. I doubt magic itself would look kindly on my attempting to kill you, or any other from here for that matter; simply for killing him. Magic and nature have ways of eventually balancing such things in my experience."

"Then we need a solution, presumably to breach either oath would mean you losing your magic?" Orin asked Salazar who nodded.

Utred smiled mischievously. "Salazar having to live as a Muggle, that would be interesting."

Salazar looked horrified. "I know you disagree strongly with my concerns about the Muggleborn's being brought here, sadly my student has ensured they are even more of a danger to us in my view."

"Look at Styr, Salazar." Ulf growled "He is targeting all Magicals, the Muggleborns need to know how to defend themselves at the very least."

"Then set up a school for them elsewhere." He snapped, then calmed. "Sorry, I know you are right in some ways and I acknowledge it is mainly the actions of Styr that has increased the risk to us all. Still, they are a threat to us here, though perhaps not as much as Styr is proving to be. The man was always ambitious, but I never thought he would betray as all, as he appears to be doing, not until now at least."

"Not your fault how he turned out, but it shows blood doesn't matter in that regard, Salazar" Erik soothed.

The founder nodded, he had grown to respect these three men without magic and their perspective on many matters, though he could not completely agree with them. "The truth is, if it wasn't for what Styr and those damnable churchmen are doing, I would now have no objection to those other than pure blood students coming here. Sadly the times we live in mean we must take any and all precautions necessary, needed to survive and Muggleborns have Muggle families who could, inadvertently or not, betray us. It is too high a risk to bring them here, train them by all means, but not here, find some place else to do it by all means and see how long until they are attacked by either Styr or the church of the nailed god, We must ensure this place is safe at any cost, we must protect what we have, protect those we know"

Orin sighed "This is all beside the point. Utred my lord, you don't seriously want Salazar to lose his magic do you? Think of what that would mean to the school and his apprentices."

Utred's grin increased evilly, he was seriously tempted, but then he thought about it and his expression became serious. "No, Orin, I don't, not really. You might be a right miserable, sullen faced, pain in the arse at times Sal, but you are a good teacher and friend."

Orin nodded. "In that case Salazar, do you think your apprentices and those of Rowena might be able to help? After all, both houses main battle role is strategy."

The founder did not respond at first, as he considered Orin's words. "Perhaps Orin, my students and hers are working on more than one strategy for the King, in readiness for the inevitable battle, this might provide a different challenge. It would at the very least test the intellect of Rowena's students and the cunning of mine, I will put this conundrum to them, perhaps they can work out a way for us both to keep our lives and magic.

He turned and led them out to the centre of the chamber, which appeared to be a signal to the students, who all stopped what they were doing and gathered to sit in front of him whilst he outlined the problem. When he had finished speaking, a couple of students asked some questions for clarity, which Salazar answered, then they dispersed into smaller groups in the work areas. Salazar smiled as he turned and walked back to his visitors. "They are starting on the task. I shall ask Rowena later." He told them.

Leaving his students in the chamber, he led the small group back up to the castle, they all had much to consider.

Utred left his most senior men, and went to his rooms near Gryffindor's, hoping Frayja would be there waiting for him.

* * *

A few weeks later, Winter had fallen in the land of the Scots and whilst their army continued to gather, the Northumbrians were stuck in Dunholm, except for their advance group, who were camped in a small village, where they would now remain until spring. Unknown to them, the friendly villagers were in fact some of Constantine's own men and their families, playing the part of simple, harmless Scots, who knew nothing of armies, Northumbrians, or Kings. They would spend the Winter watching the Usurpers men, listening to their plans and giving them some shelter, slowly gaining the Northumbrian's confidence and trust. They were even planning to celebrate both Yule and the Christians Christmas which followed hot on it's heels.

With Winter came the season of Wild Hunts at Hogwarts, as they did wherever Yule would be celebrated. It was Utred's favourite time of the year, although it reminded him of his lost home, family and lands. Each year at this time he renewed his vow to avenge his parents death, this year it had much more meaning, he knew before the next years wild hunts, he would have had his best opportunity to take at least some of that revenge.

The hunts from the school were successful though, they travelled wider than before with so many men participating. The Creaftas travelled furthest, riding on the Sliepnir, due to the speed of the equine. The hunts produced sufficient meat for the coming Yule festival, twelve days of feasting to encourage the Gods to bring forth the spring, growth and fertility. The festival would be beginning on the solstice, the shortest period of daylight each year, the night when Odin rode his Sliepnir through the night, hunting. There would be the usual sacrifices to encourage good crops and good fortune throughout the year, and gifts exchanged with family and friends, culminating in a large feast on the last day. Though this year they would also be preparing for the coming Battle, so before that feast they would be performing a large ritual, not many had participated in before.

Each of the twelve days had it's own feast and ritual, which they would be following so as not to offend the Gods. The day after Odin's wild hunt, the first of Yule, was a feast of Game. Smoke was rising from outside each group of tents and from the houses in Hogsmeade, as people began cooking the Pheasant, Duck, Goose, Swan, Hare, Squirrel or Venison, whatever they had, ready for the feasting that evening.

Utred stirred in the room he shared with Frayja, within the thick walls of the castle. He smiled as he watched her face as she slept, gently brushing her long hair back behind her ear. This was his usual morning ritual as they lay next to each other, naked, beneath the large black bear fur that Godric had bought them when they first started to share a room; where he had got it from, they thought it best not to enquire. It had been Helga who had realised the two had become soul mates as their relationship had developed, then just a few days ago she had convinced them to complete the bond with a ceremony in front of all the founders and their friends. They were now regarded as married in the eyes of all, Muggle and magical, although they had long shared the chambers in the castle and were yet to hold the public ceremony that was expected by those who knew nothing of the meaning of soul bonds.

Soon Frayja stirred awake, smiling at his gentle touch; she rolled over to face him and wrapped her arms around him, her firm breasts pressed against his chest.

"Good morning my Lord." She breathed, grinning.

Utred smiled at the gentle touch of her warm breath on his skin. "Morning my Lady, would you like your gift?."

She sat up, throwing back the fur exposing her smooth skinned naked upper body, grinning widely. He laughed. "I thought so."

They exchanged their first Gifts of the first Yule that they would spend as they would, when they became husband and wife. Today they would give gifts to friends and family, as was the custom on the first day of the festivities. On the remaining eleven days, couples only exchanged gifts between themselves and their unmarried children, one gift on each day. On the first day of Yule, it was traditional for couples to give each other a small bladed gift, so Utred presented her with a pair of bronze shears for gutting small animals, or cutting thread. Frayja gave him a small eating knife with a decorated antler tine handle and leather loop to attach it to his belt. Each day of the festival their gift to each other would become a little more lavish, including clothing, furs, shoes and culminating in jewellery, or more valuable items on the twelfth day. Having exchanged their first gifts, they soon rose from the warmth of their bed and dressed. Soon, they were making their way down the corridors and stairs to the Great Hall to exchange gifts with their friends. This year that included King Constantine, once he made it through the freshly snow covered ground to the castle from the tent he had insisted on sleeping in the night before. As it turned out, that was the last night he spent in it that winter, preferring the warmth of a guest room in the castle instead.

The afternoon was spent in the forest, decorating the branches of the trees to remind the nymphs of the forest that the trees would need dressing in foliage and blossom in the spring, encouraging the onset of growth and plentiful crops.

* * *

The advance group of Northumbrians, stuck in the small village with it's occupants, were not having quite so good a Yule as those in and around the castle they sought. True, the food was adequate, though not as plentiful as they were used to and it was better to be here, rather than out in the country beneath canvas over the worst of the Winter. The villagers who had taken them in certainly did their best, but they had only a limited supply of food for the hard season and their houses were old and draughty, with leaky roofs and walls. The Northumbrian's commander was especially unused to these conditions; Thorfin was resentful as he and his men huddled round the fire to keep warm; his men had needed to help the villagers hunt just to ensure there was enough food for all of them, they had helped scavenge for the extra wood needed for the fires to warm themselves. The villagers seemed to fair well enough in these conditions, the Northumbrians assumed they would be used to it; in fact compared with them, the Scots appeared to almost thrive on the harsh, cold conditions they faced. Thorfin was worried by how badly his own men were coping, they were trapped here and he had already lost three men due to the damp and cold. He and his fellow Wizards could keep warm, but could not use their powers on the others, indoctrinated as they were with the church's teachings on the subject.

What the young privileged wizard had not realised, was that whilst he and his men slept or went out foraging, the villagers were fetching supplies from Hogwarts for themselves and were eating very well. They used protective spells to keep themselves warm and dry in their huts, after all, Constantine always did his best to ensure that those working for him were as well looked after as possible. He was known to generously reward loyalty as well as for his ruthlessness towards those who foolishly opposed or betrayed him. He was gaining valuable information as the Northumbrians talked to his people in the village and the Northumbrians would be weaker when they finally left in the spring. So he ensured his own people in the village were comfortable, warm and well fed.

* * *

The last day of Yule, the day of the largest festivities and sacrifice, dawned at the castle, with clear blue skies, with only light cloud looking wonderful; but deceptively cold. Utred and Frayja remained warm under the bearskin as they exchanged their final gifts of Yule. Frayja was overjoyed with the necklace of silver, amber, jet and blue and white twisted glass beads. The final ritual of this Yule would take place that afternoon, a ceremony that did not take place every year, but with the gathering clouds of war was expected and was much anticipated. It was a sacrifice to Thor, which would see a number of animals ritually killed on what was the preferred battle field, the place they were planning to guide Styr's army to meet them. Although it was usual to make a small sacrifice each year to Thor, asking the God's favour if any enemy were to attack; this year, this special ritual would be performed, Utred had only witnessed it once before, at Thwing where his father had conducted it before a spring which he knew would see him sail into battle. It was hoped that performing the ritual would entertain the gods sufficiently, that they would grant the Scots victory.

Following the counsel of his advisers, including the Founders and Creaftas, Constantine had chosen the site, not far from the castle, where they would aim to trap the Northumbrian invaders. He and all his counsellors, as well as their partners, gathered at the place, where a large hole had been dug. Nearby was a stack of some one hundred loaves of bread, the same number of butts of beer and wine, a Cow, a Sheep, a Pig, a Hen, a Duck and a Horse were tethered to trees a short distance away, along with a man convicted of murdering his creditor. The convict had been sentenced to death, he had been given this opportunity to redeem himself so he would at least enter Hel in the afterlife, where most who did not die a warriors death went. He had readily accepted this, quicker, death rather than the slow death of being hauled up on a rope by his neck.

All the Lords and Chiefs assisted in getting the barrels into the hole so that they lined the edge of the base of the pit, baskets of fish joined them, then all ascended to watch from the lip of it. The King then descended into the bottom of the pit; he would make the sacrifices. He carried a knife, a sword and a two handed axe. The loaves of bread were passed down to him, and he placed them around the bottom of the hole; then the animals were led down one by one, smallest to largest, to meet their deaths, swiftly at the hands of the King. Finally the murderer was led to the pit, he walked down the slope without the need to be forced, Constantine cut the man's hands free of their bonds, the man knelt, his back to the King, who quickly dispatched him with the sword.

Soaked in blood, the King came out of the pit, stripped and washed, his clothes thrown on top of the pile of gore below, followed by the reddened water and cloths that had been used to wash him. He dressed in fresh clothes, then he and all who could, took shovels and refilled the hole, the Witches and Wizards ensuring the soil was well compacted with magic. Once all the soil was replaced, each person present stood around the edges; taking out their knives, they sliced their own palms and allowed some blood to drip onto the soil. Helga, Rowena and the Creaftas ladies went round healing the wounds. The final task was performed by Utred and Godric, as the only to Lords under the King, using their wands, they caused grass and weeds to grow, mimicking the surroundings, masking the site completely, ensuring no one could disrupt the sacrificial remains, but the Gods to whom they had been made. Ritual complete, the group grasped a long rope provided by Salazar who, after ensuring everyone was ready, touched it with his wand, activating the port key and whisking them home for the final feast of Yule, a celebration that many knew was only a few days before the Christians festival began.

They hoped the sacrifices would be enough; they knew the Gods were fickle, that even wizards were just humans, living simply for the amusement of the Gods. If they had entertained them sufficiently, then perhaps the Gods would, after all, smile on them when the battle came. They would know soon enough, for they were sure that Styr would not wait long after the days warmed and lengthened, before he led his men into the land of the Scots. During the weeks of Winter they would continue to counsel the King and the students would train and learn. Constantine's army would also be training, preparing for the war they knew was coming. The weeks of a hard winter, full of snow, would pass and the signs of spring awake, first buds, then leaves would appear as the days began to warm, telling them when time was running short.

* * *

 **Authors Notes:**

I hope you enjoyed that and look forward to reading any reviews you are kind enough to write. I must apologise for having to turn on the moderate guest reviews option, a move I was very reluctant to do but as I say on my profile I have received a number that were flames or made no sense in relation to the story for which they were left. I welcome constructive feedback, including from those without accounts here, though I prefer to be able to respond via the messaging system, but it seems all my stories have recently attracted the attention of some who do not leave such feedback. I hope, as soon as possible, to turn the option off again.

In the meantime my thanks as always to those who reviewed the last chapter, it is appreciated.

Until next time.

Tgfoy

* * *

 **Historical notes:**

Butts = Barrels. This is the origin of the name Buttery which was the place used to store the Butts.

The Clock Tower on the houses of Parliament was renamed Elizabeth Tower in 2012 to celebrate the Diamond Jubilee of HRH Queen Elizabeth the second.

The description of Yule is based on our best understanding of how it would have been celebrated a thousand years ago. Whilst Christmas is also a mid winter festival, it and Yule are never on the same date. The closest the last day of Yule ever gets to Christmas eve is December the 23rd so contrary to common belief the Christians did not directly steal Yule, they simply added another festival at the same time of year, there is some evidence that shows some would celebrate both in the past, any excuse for a party perhaps.

Similarly, from what we know of their beliefs Norse Gods were seen as beings that humans had to entertain to stand any chance of receiving their benevolence. It was believed that the Gods manipulated humans for their own entertainment and rewarded those who amused them most, often sending adversity to individuals or groups simply to be amused by the reaction. To them a God that was simply benevolent, seemed ridiculous.

Emperor Septimus Severus, the African Emperor. He was born in Libya in the year 145 AD and became joint Emperor in AD 193. Following the Scot's breaching Hadrian's wall he came with his army to restore order. He became fatally ill before the attempt and died in Eboracum (York) in the year 211 AD.


	17. Sceadugengan Spring

Disclaimer: As always, anything you recognise from the novels by J.K. Rowling belongs to her and I make no claim on it, anything else is from my own imagination.

* * *

 **Chapter 17.**

 **Sceadugengan Spring.**

 **10th Century.**

Spring had come early, after what turned out to be a hard, but unusually short winter of snow and temperatures cold enough to freeze breath on beards, The great lake had frozen sufficiently for Utred to show those interested how to make skates and use them as he had before arriving at the school, they even held races across the lake, from where the ship and boats had been hauled onto the beach to protect the hulls. They had cut a hole in the centre for the Merpeople, but otherwise the only unfrozen area had been above the water fall outlet, even the surface of the mountain streams were covered in ice.

No one trusted the spring was here to stay, until the blossom had erupted on the trees, it was only then that the Northumbrians emerged from the village where they had wintered. They were of course being watched, as they had been in the village so it was already known that the number of Northumbrians in the advance group had been depleted over the winter, as was only to be expected. They had also got to know the plans that the leaders of the group had made during the enforced idleness, so could in turn plan accordingly. Those of the Northumbrians that had survived were the fittest, healthiest and strongest of the troop, they had no wounded and fewer old men to cope with when they emerged. They were a sorry looking group though, clearly starving and weakened by the privations of the winter, even so, they had made good progress in the few days since leaving the village.

Utred had the same men in the patrol as had been with him before Yule. They met with the other team, who had stayed in the village over the festival, it was they who briefed Utred on the current state of Styr's advance patrol, before they had begun the routine of following, guiding and setting up camp for themselves each day.

The route they were gently guiding Thorfin and his men had brought them to this steep, rocky, wooded, valley with a rutted, well used road along the bottom that ran past a lake and mist covered marsh then out of sight at the other end. It was sheltered and late in the day, but Utred could clearly see alternative, hidden routes along the valley sides, probably created by animals passing through, he and his men used these tracks while the Northumbrians below had used the road until they were next to the lake, where they had stopped. Soon the fire-light and smoke rising next to the lake in the valley bottom could be seen by Utred and his men, half way up, covered by plants and ridges against the rising land, as the men led by Thorfin set up camp before the daylight was gone.

Utred gathered his men together as they reached a point above the Northumbrians where they were hidden from view behind a short ridge, he told them to set up camp. One of Constantine's men, completely out of character, strongly objected

"No, my Lord." He addressed Utred urgently. "We must set our own camp, I agree, but not here, not in this place, it is not safe."

"Why, it seems as good a place as any?" Utred responded, intrigued at the strength of the normally calm man's assertion.

"This valley is the lair of the soul takers, creatures that no one who has seen close to has been capable of describing, we see spectral shadows flying round, seeking prey each night. That road in the valley bottom leads from Dùn Phris and is safe for most of it's route day or night, here though it is infested with Sceadugengan, dark beings from the marshes near that lake, that only come out at night. This is a breeding ground for them, they bring darkness to any they encounter, even being close to them in the day can bring a feeling of despair to those who pass. They suck all happiness from the area, little else lives in that lake because of them, even now you can see they are covered in mist; that is permanent, it never clears. Men do not spend the night here if they know, if they don't, then we find them next day, alive, but empty, there is nothing of them left but an empty shell."

"We?"

"The village I was raised in, Seanchair, is just over the ridge over there, not far from here, it has a view into this valley to the water, I grew up knowing about the wraiths, knowing the dangers of being in the valley after sun fall. For those of us who live there, well, we grow up knowing, even watching, what happens to those who ignore our warning to them, helpless to go to their aid as their screams echo in the night, it is all simply part of living here." The man pointed up to an area free of trees about half a mile from where they were, they could easily reach it before sunset. "The village is just beyond that ridge, it has been protected from the night walkers for many years, they dare not go there. We can get there unseen from below, the elder left to run it by the chief will welcome us warmly, but we must get there as swiftly as we can to be certain to get there before nightfall, when the creatures will rise."

Nodding in acknowledgement of the man's greater knowledge of the area and recognising that his genuine fear was not simply cowardice, the man had proven his bravery time after time, Utred made his decision quickly, knowing it was unwise to ignore such good quality local intelligence from a trusted source. "Very well, we shall make for your village, it is close enough after all, set observers to watch over the Northumbrians." Utred ordered.

The man shook his head. "Lord you misunderstand slightly, we cannot leave any one here, anyone and everyone who spends a night here is lost by the time the sun rises, though I do not know of any occasion when that number camping in the valley at once before. Some may survive due to sheer numbers I suppose, but they would be the first ever to do so. Even so there will be no need to watch them, they won't go anywhere tonight, once those dark figures of despair emerge, they won't be able to run or walk anywhere, we will be able to keep watch from the safety of the village. I would only place those with a strong stomach to that task though, it is not pleasant."

Utred knew this man was not worried so easily, yet he seemed terrified of anyone at all spending the night in this glen, as the Northumbrians planned to. "You are certain that even our men won't survive the night if we leave any?"

The man nodded. "It is clear those we are following do not know the danger, we should consider warning them, although it is likely the villagers will send someone to warn them to move out of the Valley."

Utred used a light touch of Legilimancy on the man, to check this out of character terror was genuine and not induced from elsewhere. It was possible they had been detected by the wizards loyal to Thorfin and this man was unaware he was being controlled to prevent them being followed. The moment he did he knew the fear was as genuine as it seemed. What he found, gave him an instant understanding of what was behind the man's assertions, as if he too had been born here, now he could see the result of the Night Walkers attacks in the man's mind, he knew the urgency was not misplaced. He also saw and shared his belief that they ought to warn the Northumbrians, no one deserved that fate, but knew it would not be easy. He used the temporary link between them to calm the man a little, so he did not appear panicked and irrational to the others, he placed his hand on the man's shoulder."I understand, we shall all go to safety in your village, but we cannot warn them unless we can do so without giving ourselves away, which I doubt any of us could do, we shall consult with the elder, if he has not already taken action." Utred pondered for a moment longer, trying to think if he had any alternatives, before he issued his final order on the subject. "Very well, lead the way to the village, we shall hope the elder well come up with a method of warning the Northumbrians, then it is up to them whether to act or not."

It did not take them long to reach the village, there was still sufficient time before sunset, though the sun was low in the sky. The few elderly men, women and children who had been left guarding the village, welcomed them warmly at the gate, recognising the man with them. They were pleased to receive news of those that had gone with their chief, from their neighbour with Utred's men. It was clear the men and boys were exhausted from their duty, guarding the gate day and night. Keen to show they did not want to be a burden on the community, Utred placed his own guard on the gate and patrolling the fence around the settlement, relieving the exhausted villagers, allowing them to get at least one nights rest, before he went to talk to the man in charge, in the Hall.

* * *

Styr sat in front of the new shrine in the new cathedral at Dunholm, smirking. News from the advance party led by Thorfin had resumed after the winter and although he had lost men over the cold months, it had generally been good. His own men had successfully escorted the dead saint before the winter to a further temporary resting place at Whitby, before bringing it north to this cathedral and it had lain in the safety of the church until the weather had improved sufficiently that the Archbishop had made the journey. The Fyrd had started to gather under the cover of the Lords attending the ceremonies for the cadaver, bringing their men with them. All in all things were going well for the King, exactly as he hoped it would. Soon his son would find the castle north of the wall, lead them to it and gift it's occupants to the church, gaining him the crown of Englaland and power over the land of the Scot's. Perhaps the throne of that country as well, leaving only the lands of Wales outside his control or influence. Now the most of the Fyrd had arrived and after the celebrations they would begin to follow the path cleared for them through the lands of the wild men North of the wall.

After the coffin and it's escort had wintered at Whitby, their arrival with the saint had been greeted joyfully by the people of Dunholm, just a day after his own arrival from Jorvik, but he could see conflicted emotions from the priests, as they saw the Archbishop arrive a few days later.

Today, a week after his arrival the Archbishop dedicated the shrine in a service that was lasting for hours, a prospect few had looked forward to, but knew they must endure in order to be seen where they should be to appease Gods representatives. Every noble of Northumbria had arrived, bringing their men, for the event and were now enduring being mere spectators, the captive audience of what seemed to be an endless procession of priests praying and preaching.

The city was celebrating, its people making money having set up stalls bearing souvenirs along with a fair and entertainments, including a dancing bear as well as fire eaters, jugglers and acrobats. Food stalls abounded, feeding the hungry mouths of the hundreds who had arrived for the festival marking the laying to rest of the saint. There was barely a street within the Cities Walls that did not have entertainment alongside the usual household stalls, trade was excellent for all. The King was looking forward to gathering the taxes from all the traders, before marching to bring the Scots under control and eradicating what was, according to the Durslieg's, probably the largest group of witches and wizards ever gathered in one place. The celebrations in the streets had ceased, on the orders of Archbishop Hrothweard, for the duration of the service, to ensure everyone in the city focused on the ceremony rather than the entertainments. Of course this did mean his priests would have more people to gather gold and Silver from, as everyone gathered at the Cathedral that was the focus of events for now.

Inside the newly built Cathedral the blessing of the new shrine it had been built to shelter was in the charge of the local Priests and what seemed to be an endless variety of priests and Monks, all of whom found it necessary to make numerous blessings and interminably long prayers. Although this building was as large as the hall not far away in the City, it was not as large as it's mother church in Jorvik, it was after all wooden and thatched rather than a reused and repaired Roman building, so it did not have the benefit of being able to utilise the ancients stone walls as the one in the capital did. It was magnificent though, in addition to glazed windows and paintings on the walls depicting events both local and from the stories of the bible, the event had ensured additional decoration, so large dyed cloths hung on some walls and greenery had been cut and hung from the ceiling. The roof had been finished with a tower above the shrine, which had horn glazed windows to allow light to illuminate the last resting place of the saint. The horn defusing the light with a honeyed hue, giving the shrine's brightly painted panels an ethereal, though warm, look. Each panel of the shrine depicted a scene from the story of Cuthbert's life, the figures painted wearing the bright coloured clothes of the wealthy, were on panels of wood mounted in intricately carved frames, highlighted with gold. The last of the painted boards in it's frame had been placed over the entrance to the shrine once the coffin containing the Saints remains had been laid within, fixed in place, sealing the shrine from intrusion. The Shrine, topped with golden crucifix, was the centre piece of the whole Cathedral, a lavish extravagance in the richly decorated, for the occasion, building.

As yet another priest stood and began yet another round of prayers, the Archbishop, who had conducted the internment of the saint's remains, leant over to Styr and whispered, "Enjoy the rest of the service, my King. I need to return to my lodgings, now my part is done." Hrothweard grinned maliciously, knowing that unlike the priests, who only needed to be present for their part in the service, the King was stuck here until the conclusion of the service, which he knew was still some hours away.

Styr swore under his breath as he watched the richly robed figure depart swiftly behind the shrine and through a door that led to a side room of the Cathedral with his entourage. He knew that from that door they would be directly in the compound where Dunholm's priests lived and worked, the King had been shown it when he had inspected the building, then been led to a meeting with the Archbishop. Styr swore under his breath, he knew he was trapped and the blasted man could get up to anything whilst he was stuck in this damned ceremony for a long dead corpse.

* * *

The Elder of Seanchair, had readily agreed that despite the actions of their King, his son and the Church, the Northumbrians deserved to be given the chance to avoid the horror of the inhabitants of the valley and sent one of the younger women, who was also the fastest of them, under a leafy branch, demonstrating she came under truce and meant no harm, to talk. She arrived at the Northumbrians camp quickly, assuming correctly that she was from a nearby village, but incorrectly that she had been sent to surrender the settlement to them, she had immediately been taken before Thorfin. She delivered her message, both verbally and on a hastily written parchment, then left, not waiting for any response and swiftly returned to the hall, the sun was inexorably sinking lower towards the horizon. Utred's men and some of the villagers watched the camp to see if there would be any response, but despite the warning, the Northumbrians continued to set camp, ignoring what those who lived here had told them. There was nothing more they could do for them, it was with regret, but the knowledge they had done all they could safely do for the enemy of those who resided in these lands, that they watched the sun set, before they entered the hall to eat an evening meal, sending some out for the men on watch, then waited for the inevitable to begin.

It was less than an hour later, the last rays of sun light had just disappeared below the hills and those in the hall were draining the last of their ale, that the first, chilling scream of a man desperate and scared beyond measure, echoed up from the Northumbrians camp. Even the villagers, who had heard similar before, froze in their seats for a moment, as another spine chilling scream rang through the valley. They were the first of many that would ring out before dawn came, the Elder sighed and shook his head, they all shared a sadness that there were humans who had rejected the only help they could give, now it was too late to do anything. A short while later Utred's men with the elder and the young Lord had emerged from the warmth of the hall, into the chill spring night air. The nights had only recently warmed sufficiently to merely cause a light frost towards the end of the darkness, but were still chilled enough to cause a shiver when emerging from a fire warmed hall. Utred stood on the platform on the wall that surrounded the community and watched the shadows of the dark, floating ephemeral figures that were to be seen against the glow of a protective ward, which had been hastily erected over the Northumbrian camp, they could see the men behind it with weapons drawn, arrows and spears flying towards the dark attackers, passing through them with no effect. The Sceadugengan were attacking the ward and any outside it, en masse. They could clearly see the lake had frozen over and the glint was distinctly of frost on the trees and ground near the camp in the moon light of the clear star lit night. The wintry cold where the dark spirits were congregating and attacking the camp belied the season, if they looked out over the land the other side of the village there was no frost, or even mist. Utred guessed Thorfin and his elite guard were powering the shield, that had appeared over the camp, throwing caution to the wind, trying to protect the Muggle men with them for no other reason than the need not to loose them in this unfriendly land. It was a shield under constant attack, dark flying figures swooping down to test its strength, that weakened under each assault, there were too few Wizards there to maintain it over them all until dawn, eventually it would become a choice of sacrificing men to protect a few, or loose all it seemed.

"I could almost feel sorry for the foolish Earslings." The senior elder, a Huscarl, observed joining Utred on the ramparts of his village. "But, they chose to ignore our warning, they were told quite clearly that once darkness had fallen there would be nothing we could do for them, they have brought this on themselves.

Utred glanced at the elder. "They might be the enemy, but they should have had the chance to die as warriors, not have what I understand will happen to them, happen. Thorfin has proved himself to be just as foolish as his father, I wonder what he will do if none of the unfortunates down there survive, if that happens and the messages stop, then I suppose we shall find out soon enough." He acknowledged sadly.

"That shield they have erected will hold for a while, but eventually they will get in, they always do." The man predicted, confirming what could plainly be seen."Then some will come here, while others feed, they usually do."

The elders prediction turned out to be not quite as accurate as it might have been. Within just a few minutes the creatures did not wait to break through the camp's shields, before some flew towards the village. A new path of ice across the water of the lake formed beneath them. as they passed low over it's surface, the earth freezing instantly, as they sped over the bank and towards the wall on which they stood and watched.

"Don't worry, they can't reach us." The elder said, his tone was confident and reassuring, if a little shaky. "You will feel their effect, but they won't attack, they try every night, but can't get in, we usually ignore them and get on with things. Some say it's ancient magic, long forgotten by your kind, that powers a shield protecting us, we don't really know. I don't believe it myself, for me it's just that they are very territorial, in all my years, I have never seen them fly from that area too far, they always go back after a quick look at us, not once have I seen them leave the valley. I think we are simply not on, what they consider is, their own land."

Utred nodded expecting to feel the temperature drop, which it did. The Sceadugengan drew closer to the boundary, the feeling of dread increased until it felt to Utred that there was no happiness left anywhere. His worst memories flooded his mind, mainly the horror of seeing his home destroyed, the pain of losing his family, the images passed quickly, then as one of the phantoms passed in front of him and paused, all went black, he knew nothing more.

* * *

It was dark when Styr was finally able to leave the Cathedral at the end of the ceremonies, which had lasted all day without a break, servants bringing food, drink and pots to piss in to all those who could afford to pay. He returned to the house given up by Dunholm's Lord for the use of those of his household that had made the journey, which was most of them the others were with the Fyrd outside the walls. It was adequate, but compared with the palace at Jorvik, barely so, it's poorly maintained wattle and daub walls were draughty beneath the contrastingly well maintained thatch. His personal guard formed on either side of and behind him him as he left his seat, preventing anyone else getting close, as he walked through the Cathedral, then the short distance through the streets to the long house. The remains of Saint Cuthbert now safely hidden from the view of mortals in the shrine, nothing would ever disturb him if the amount of prayers were any indication. It seemed to Styr that every priest in Northumbria and quite possibly a number from Wessex as well, had taken part in the service. After years of the City overseeing the construction, the bishop and priests of Dunholm were now responsible for the cathedral and its contents, while the traders would benefit from an influx of pilgrims, at least they would once he and the men returned victorious from North of the wall. Then Dunholm would not just be the end of a journey, but a staging post as people travelled to see the wonder the King of Englaland had captured, the saint of secondary interest he was certain.

The next day, a week of more worldly festivities across the walled city would continue without the inconvenience of religion getting in it's way, at least beyond it's usual presence in the every day lives of the citizens. Tomorrow would be a little different for the King and other dignitaries, it would be a day of feasting at the Archbishop's lodgings. Styr would need to attend, it was expected of course, but that was the last of his formal duties to do with the interment, afterwards he would be free to turn his attention to his usual business and the preparations for the invasion of Scotland and the capture of that castle. Owning that magnificent building, which put even the grandeur of Jorvik's Minster in the shadows, would on it's own give him more wealth than Hrothweard had dreamed of, although once the King had captured it, he was certain the church would decide a way to gain some of that wealth.

The festivities were the perfect cover for the Fyrd to continue to assemble, should any Scots be watching, he knew they could be, but was certain they would just think it was for the Saint rather than preparation for invasion. He had no spies near his target, just Thorfin's advance party and he was certain the barbarous Scots could not be organised well enough to send any into the City itself, he was positive there were no spies amongst his household either. Even though he knew those at the Castle were quite organised sufficiently, he had been no threat to them so far, so why would they send spies, certainly not just on the word of one student, no matter his status. By the time they realised he was a threat, it would be too late for any spies to be of use anyway, he would have taken the castle by then. Styr chuckled at the thought, he knew every Wizard and Witch in his household, everyone of them was loyal to him without question, of that he had no doubt, it was laughable to think any of them could possibly be working against him.

He smiled in satisfaction, knowing that the city guard patrolling the ramparts that surrounded the City, especially those posted high over the gates who looked out over the fields between the city and the forest, could see it was covered in a multitude dots of flickering orange, reflected as a large dome in the black of the night sky. The light from the hundreds of cooking fires gleaming off the rising smoke above the tents of the gathering Fyrd, the acrid scent of burning wood strong even over the stench of rotting filth from both within the walls and now, also without. Each tent housed at least four men, was made of canvas supported on poles, held up by a triangle of planks at each end, some intricately carved with beast heads at the upper ends. They were arranged in groups around a shared fire close to a larger, circular tent housing the Lord who had brought the men and his household, if he could not get lodgings in the city, the tents of his most trusted men closest to his tent, they of course did not have to share with anyone they did not wish to. The banners of the Lord flying over their tent, an indication of how many of the Houses of Northumbria had arrived. Each day more Banners had been erected by dusk than had been there at dawn, as more reached the City, in the distance the faint glimmer of fires at camps of those who would arrive the next day could be glimpsed on the horizon. The massed armies were gathering, waiting the word of their King, preparing for what many expected would be the largest war and bloodiest battle any of them could remember, at least if the size of the Fyrd was anything to judge by.

* * *

Utred woke under a blanket of thick white fur, he was inside a house, atop a bed with a thin, fleece filled mattress on a sturdy wooden bed. He sat up, looking round bleary eyed, he was on the platform above the animal pen in the house.

"Ah, you have woken, my Lord." A female voice came from below, in the main room.

Utred turned to face the speaker, the Huscarls wife.

"Good." She continued a friendly smile on her face. "Don't worry my Lord, they often have that effect on people who haven't come across them before."

Utred thought back. "The Sceadugengan?" He asked.

She nodded, "That is certainly one name for them." She said sadly. "Here, drink this." She gave him a wooden bowl full of a warm amber liquid, dried herbs were floating in it.

He drank it down in one gulp, tasting honey, herbs, and distilled grain in the split second before he gasped, as the alcohol bit at his throat and took his breath away.

She chuckled merrily. "And Uisge Beatha can do that first time you gulp it down, but it will do you good, which is why we mix it."

Utred had to admit he did feel better. "How long?" He gasped, handing the cup back.

"Not too long really, most don't wake until the sun is high in the sky, but the sun is just rising and you are back with us. They will be back in the marshes now until night fall so they will not affect you again."

Nodding his thanks, Utred stood and left the house to return to the wall, finding the elder looking towards the camp.

"Ah good, my Lord, you are back with us." He greeted, smiling at Utred's grunted response. "Well, I don't think our friends have fared so well."

Utred looked towards the Northumbrians camp, all was quiet there, too quiet compared with their arrival the day before. There should have been the noise of men waking, shouts as breakfast was prepared and eaten, as well as the noise of the camp being struck, but there was nothing.

The Elder shrugged sadly and continued. "They didn't leave them alone all night, so there must be some survivors to have continued to attract them until the dawn began and drove them back into the forest and marshes. They quickly lose interest once no one is left untouched, but I have never seen them in such a frenzy as they were last night. As you saw, a few of the wraiths came here, but you know about that. Most of those creatures stayed over there, slowly getting in through the shield, until it collapsed completely not long after we got you into my house. The Night Walkers swarmed in then, over a hundred of them there must have been, to feed. I can't recall them ever having such a feast before, most left once they had their fill, but some remained and more flew in, one at a time, from all directions. Luckily for those poor devils, by then it wasn't long before the sun began to rise, driving the dark beasties back to the forest and marsh. There will be survivors at least, 'tis not often that there are, but I reckon there will be far more who are nothing but, empty husks."

An hour later, just over fifty men left the Northumbrian camp, eagerly, hurriedly, moving past the unseen village holding the watchers. Utred recognised Thorfin leading them away, all were ashen faced and scared by what they had been through, they were probably the first to have survived a night in that place, but they were haunted men now. Some of Utred's men set off to keep track of them and the Huscarl sent his own men down to the camp once they were out of sight. Those men returned, reporting that the remainder of the advance group, hundreds of men, were dead. Killed by their own people, if the wounds were any indication. The elder nodded sagely. "That's a mercy, those men would have been empty shells, living, but not alive, they are better off dead."

Utred raised his eyebrow understanding. "It's what you would have done?" He asked, knowing the answer already.

"It is what I have had to do in the past." He told them grimly. "My own son was caught many years ago, the next morning I found him. He had been a good huntsman and warrior, a lively saga teller and drinker, but that morning he was soulless, no spark left in his eyes, all he had been was gone. I placed his hand on a sword, had to wrap his hand round the handle to ensure he had it, he offered no recognition at all as I cut his throat. Whether his soul reached Valhalla, I do not know for sure. I hope it did, and hope to see him again in the feasting hall, though I fear I was too late and it was gone with those things, I live with that doubt every hour of every day since. With luck, one day I will reach the hall myself and join him. His grave is over by the fields, Hog back stone over him as befits the man he was. The hardest thing I ever had to do was that, I pray to Odin that no man should ever have to do the same for their son and to Thor to give them the strength to do it if they need to.

One of Utred's men returned, to lead them on the fleeing Northumbrians trail. Thanking the Huscarl and the villagers, who they left to continue guarding the women and children, Utred led his group in pursuit of the invaders advance group.

* * *

The messengers from Thorfin and the advance party had resumed after winter, although they were less frequent and appeared to have deteriorated physically over the cold season, they continued to bring satisfying news from North of the wall. A clear, safe path to the target seemed to be easier to achieve than expected. The raids south of the wall had stopped, it seemed to Styr that the mere presence of the growing Northumbrian Fyrd was holding them at bay, a good sign for a swift and easy conquest. He was glad he had sent his boy and the men ahead, it had made the anticipated conquest easier to achieve, thanks to Thorfin and his men scaring the Scot's away, now all that remained was pin pointing the castle, a task he knew his son was capable of, once he got within a certain distance of it, thanks to his magic. Styr knew if he had gone he would have sensed it from a much larger distance, he had the benefit of being trained by a master Wizard and age to develop his powers, but he had to be seen at Dunholm, so sending his son, who he had trained himself, was the best they could do.

He had another reason that he had sent his son to lead the advance party as well; the boy needed to gain his confidence to command, after all he would eventually succeed him so needed to prove his metal, gain the loyalty of more men. It pleased him that this mission appeared to be achieving just that, so far at least. What resistance the scouting party was reported to have met had been quickly quashed, with little loss of Northumbrian life, according to the messages sent back by his son. This would not only help his son's confidence, but also that of the Fyrd. As word spread that few Scots were being sighted and that those that were had offered little, if any, resistance, then the confidence of the men of Northumbria would grow. It seemed that the stories they had all been brought up hearing, were true. The Scots were indeed a disorganised rabble, that would offer no real threat when challenged at all, so much the better for the campaign they were about to embark on.

The King was satisfied with progress as he lay on his bed that nigh, listening to the revelry in Dunholm. It would not be long before the Fyrd would have gathered in more than enough numbers for the task ahead, he would give it a week, maybe a little longer, for the stragglers from the far with and west of his Kingdom to arrive. A few days later they would march, to take Scotland and that magnificent castle, from its rulers and into Northumbria. Then he would be able to deliver a large number of those of his own kind, who could and probably would, betray him, to the church or death. The not insignificant bonus was that he would also capture a castle of such a stature that it would ensure he had the wealth and power he needed in order to force gaining the throne of Wessex too, once he had that place he would be the richest man in Englaland, even the church could not stand in his way. Effectively he would be hijacking Alfred's dream, stealing it from that King's descendants, claiming it for himself, even taking it further. With the castle in his hands, he could do what those in it lacked with the will or strength to do, he could rule the lands North of the wall as well as South, an achievement beyond Alfred's dream, surpassing even what he had wanted, ensuring the name Styr would live forever in sagas and songs along side that King, perhaps even replacing it. When he achieved that, he would no longer need to bend to the church's will, it would need to bend to his, his rule would be absolute, the wealth he would gain incredible and the power beyond measure.

The next morning, before the King rose, there was activity in the space between the Cathedral and the Bishops quarters. As he mounted his horse in the yard of the lodgings he had been given in the Bishop's house, Archbishop Hrothweard had gleefully repeated the orders he had given his clergy at Dunholm of the amounts of gold he expected to be presented to the church of Northumbria, as represented by him, each year, now they had the advantage of St Cuthbert's remains in their care. It was triple what had been previously expected from the City, more even than he had even taken from the clergy at Onripum while the casket and saint had lain there. He had seen the increased potential for separating the faithful pilgrims from their gold, with the saint now in a permanent shrine, rather than hidden in the crypt he had been in previously, he had also observed the many stalls of tokens and trinkets in the City, each of which would be required to pay a tax to the church here, if he did not act then the clergy here would soon be wealthier and more influential than he, that he could not allow. The local clergy were already plotting how they would make more gold for themselves from the pilgrims, above and beyond what they must now send to Jorvik, even as Hrothweard kicked his horse on and they watched as he left the City. His elite guard escorting him, with his own personal clergy, riding hard, heading south.

The moment that he was out of sight, stalls of Cuthbert tokens, struck in various metals, crucifixes, blessings and prayers appeared from where they had been concealed in the outbuildings of the Bishopry to be setup in the yard outside the cathedral entrance, where no others were permitted to trade, but those who did so on behalf of the clergy. Within minutes pilgrims began to hand over silver in exchange for the items as they began to seek entry to the Cathedral and the shrine to pray, hoping for a miracle. By nightfall that day the shrine had been credited with it's first miracle, the claim concerned the healing of an anonymous cripple according to the rumour mill in the city. The healing was apparently witnessed and verified by one of the clergy, though no one knew which one of course, but who would lie about such a thing. As word inevitably, inexorably, spread across the land, this miracle and more that would follow, would ensure more pilgrims, sick and injured came to seeking healing, pray, pay homage and gold at the shrine. People, Christians would be drawn here to replace those here to celebrate the arrival and those who would leave with the Fyrd.

The Archbishop was in a hurry, he had to return to Jorvik as soon as he could. His men would take command of the City guard, sending the remainder of the King's sworn men North to join him, leaving the protection of the City completely under his command. That meant he would control the flow of information from the City to King Styr, as well as the city itself, although he could not be seen to be doing the latter, well, not yet at least. Once out of sight of Dunholm, he sent a fast rider ahead, he would pass Jorvik out of sight and head on to the southern boundary with Mercia. There the messenger would meet emissaries from Wessex. The King of southern England was heading North, gathering men on the way. The Fyrd of East Anglia, Mercia and Wessex combined would meet at the boundary soon enough. By Easter, once Styr was over the wall and sufficient distance separated them from the wall that he could not return before Northumbria was secured, the combined Fyrd of Wessex, Mercia and East Anglia would advance, Englaland would soon be united under one King, who was completely loyal to the church.

That night, the Archbishop rested in the best rooms of the hall in the village they had reached by the time dusk was falling on the day they had left Dunholm, contemplating the future without Styr. The man had only ever been a means to an end, his greed for power useful to get what the church wanted, but his time was over, his usefulness at an end. They would have preferred to have kept Styr's brother in place until they were ready, then quietly poison him and replace him with Alfred's heir, but the man had listened to the pagans too much and would not prioritise the Churches requirements of him. Now Styr was beginning to believe he did not need those who had placed him on the throne, it was time for him to go. The Archbishop would be glad to leave this draughty Hall the next morning, as would the villagers if the shock that had been evident on their faces when they had arrived was anything to go by. This had not been their intended stopping place, but for one reason or another they had not made quite as much progress as they had hoped for. They had been slowed by men walking in the opposite direction to join the Fyrd not getting out of the way quickly enough, women driving sheep along the road with their children in the absence of the men as well as slowing to pass through areas of flooding, all conspiring to delay them. They had been several miles short of their intended overnight stop at Aelfereton as dusk had fallen and they had arrived at this village, where Hrothweard demanded accommodation, he almost wished they had continued on in the night, but knew it was dangerous to do so and that by the time they reached the more comfortable town, the gates would be closed and they would not be able to gain admittance. It was pointless to proceed further tonight, they would have to make the best of it for now and hope they could make up time tomorrow, to reach Jorvik as planned to prepare.

Unseen by any in the village, an owl that had arrived a few moments before, was released by one of the Archbishops guard, carrying a message north. It headed over the hills to the west of Dunholm, on a direct path to it's destination far beyond the wall. It was joined by another, high over those hills, that had travelled from much further south, both flew side by side as their destination drew into sight, their messages secure as they began to lose height, heading straight for the large castle ahead.

* * *

Thorfin was beginning to realise that having lost the vast majority of his men, not least during that appalling night being attacked by those creatures, his father might notice the small number of them left when they reunited. He had spent the time since that terrible night taking stock and was realising he would need an explanation for losing so many men ready for the moment he reunited with his father. That would either be when the Fyrd caught up with them, or after he and those left with him found this castle full of blood traitors that his father had described to him. Of the fifty or so men left with him, only he and the remains of his personal guard were magical, the survivors of defending the Muggles in the group that night, on which a number of good loyal wizards had perished along with most of the Muggles and priests, but they were no loss as far as he was concerned. The spectral creatures had worn down their defences, then the moment a gap appeared, instantly swept onto their victims, breath rattling beneath the hood of their cloaks as they appeared to suck the very souls from their prey. The ground around them froze instantly as they passed over it, every plant frozen in the spectral creatures wake, the atmosphere robbed of any optimism, as if every positive thought had been sucked away, never to return. The creatures had bent over their victims and appeared to kiss them. A glowing ball had been seen to pass from human to creature, who consumed it with relish, before the floating figures ceased their attack on that individual and onto the next, leaving the victims alive, breathing with a heartbeat, but merely a shell, with no consciousness at all. There was no sign of life in their eyes, they were vacant, didn't, or couldn't, speak, respond or seem aware of anything around them. Each of them no longer responded to anything, even threats or pain, it was a kindness to put them to the sword, though it was an unpleasant task, even to those hardened by killing in battle. Even his closest men, well used to killing in hall burnings and battle, had little stomach for this mass slaughter. Having to put people who were oblivious to what they could see in front of them, showing no fear of death, unaware of the oblivion to which they were being sent was disturbing to all who had to do it. Completely different to battle, Hall burnings, duelling or even executing criminals as they all had before, these were what was left of men they had survived the winter with and knew. Although this was obviously putting the victims out of their misery, a compassionate act, they were comrades, it seemed cold blooded, even to Thorfin. The wizards had quietly Obliviated themselves of the memory of the killings, though not the other events that had happened, using those memories to motivate themselves to move faster away from the evil of that place, quietly vowing to themselves never to return.

Utred led his men, keeping track of Thorfin's group for the next few days. They had found it was easy to catch up with them that first day, the Northumbrians had been in such a hurry their trail was more obvious than usual, making it easy to find them again. They had kept watch on the few remaining Northumbrians, guiding them on the path they wanted them on, but once more today it was time for them to return to the castle. Once relieved, they quickly port keyed to an open area near the lake, ready for a few days of rest in the comfort of their friends and families. The ship and boats were moored near the lodge, close to where they landed. A number of the Scottish Huscarls had admired the larger of the vessels, even carving a tail for the stern post, to go with the beast head for the prow. The tail and figure head were shaped after a dragon, an image inspired by Hufflepuff's family motto which had been adopted for the school. Never prod a sleeping dragon. It seemed that some ancestor of hers had lost a bet, learning the value of following the phrase in the process. His eldest son had added the runes to his shield decoration, as a warning to all his descendants.

The intricately carved and painted head that would usually be placed on the vessel only when going on a raid, scaring the spirits of the land, making it easier to subdue the inhabitants, was simply decorative on this vessel trapped on the land locked lake. Even though the ship could, in theory, be hauled from the water and dragged to a river or the coast, this vessel was unlikely to ever leave the lake, so the head would only be worn when the ship was used in competition or on ceremonial occasions and would now be joined by the tail, creating a fearsome look for the ship.

Making his way tiredly to the King's tent, Utred hoped he would not be long briefing the man and the others, he also wanted to talk with the founders about the Sceadugengan they had encountered privately, before he went to his quarters in the castle.

* * *

 **Late 20th Century.**

The months between the Christmas and Easter holidays at Hogwarts had brought there excitement, though of a less damaging kind than had been known in the recent past. The students reaction to Flame's arrival with the Potters being bound to create some notice at the start of term being the first, quickly followed by Petunia and Minerva organising the first Burns night celebration, complete with traditional food, toasts and readings of the Scottish Bards works. The reinstatement of the Valentines ball was popular, especially as it did not involve anyone running round to give messages to people, an event that had gone down in Hogwarts legend, so even the students who had not been there at the time had heard about it instilling trepidation in all. However, all were relieved that those events that seemed to revolve around Harry and Ginny this year were positive ones, unlike those of the year before. The Gryffindor's were especially relieved their head of house had, at last, fully recovered and no longer required any extra rest, it gave the whole house a new lease of life, noticed by all the staff and giving all the students a new impetus in their activities.

Petunia was still proving to be a popular teacher, her classes had become varied and informative as her confidence in her own abilities grew. She had never felt so free as she did now, although she actually was quite constrained by her lack of magic, it was the knowledge that she was achieving things through her own efforts that gave her that feeling. She was loving teaching and planning lessons, she had re written the course guidelines for both NEWTS and OWLS with the help of Minerva, they had both convinced the examination board they needed to tailor the exam to the new, up to date, course. The board had taken some convincing that it was necessary, but Petunia had organised a visit to the London science museum as well as a few other places for them, where she was able to show and demonstrate how far behind their knowledge of the modern world was, a fact that both amazed and worried them. Initially, as they learnt about and saw some of the technology on display they wondered if Wizards had acted against the statute of secrecy, before realising it was technology, not magic that powered the wonders of communication and travel even into space. Worry reemerged as they realised the implications of the advances in weaponry at the Royal Armouries in Leeds, they were frankly scared by the speed that traffic travelled on the motorway she showed them and the trains that shared the tracks with the Hogwarts express. Muggle knowledge of the world amazed them in the British and Natural History museums, but everywhere she shared with them, via the portkeys Minerva, Harry and Ginny had supplied for them, showed them how much they needed to learn about their non magical compatriots and how important upgrading the Hogwarts course was.

The week before the Easter break Petunia had introduced dealing with modern Muggle transport systems in class for all years, both public and private. The elves had helped her create booking offices for railways, ships and planes, even coaches and trams. Harry had returned to Grimmauld Place where he had shrunk Dudley's car to bring back to the school. Once it was restored to full size outside the warehouse in Hogsmeade, Dudley had, after a charm that enabled the electrical system to work and to the amusement of many, driven it through the village then up to the school, where every student had been given a ride in the vehicle during their lesson. A simple spell that Harry applied ensured it did not run out of fuel. Both spells had lasted for long enough for the lesson, it would need to be reapplied before it could be driven in the village again afterwards, but for while it lasted, it had meant a new experience for many of the students. Harry and Hagrid had created a small road system in the grounds for Dudley to drive the students around, without damaging the grass, it included representations of various pedestrian crossings, road junctions, even types of road. While she had chance Petunia had also given lessons on crossing the road properly while students waited for their turn to ride in the car, after she had discovered that quite a number of the students from Wizarding families had never been shown how.

In addition, she managed to arrange a short residential trip for the seventh year students to go on during the Easter holidays with the aim of them being able to experience being tourists in a mixed environment and to observe Muggles in everyday life. Ron and Hermione were joining the trip, along with Dudley and of course Horace. She had chosen the location carefully as a place the students could observe Muggle history and modern life, as well as enjoying a number of activities. With its museums, shops and Minster, they would be boarding the Hogwarts Express, which would take them to the walled city of York.

The trip was to take place over the first weekend of the holiday, giving the seventh years an educational break from the treadmill of NEWT's revision. Petunia had asked Ron and Hermione to come along, at the request of both sets of their parents, in order that the pair were well out of the way to enable some plans to be put in place ready for the wedding weekend at the end of the holiday.

As well as teaching she had thoroughly enjoyed learning about Wizard life and taking part in the lessons she and Dudley had with her colleagues. Both had done well, enjoying the processes of potions, Dudley had been a natural at Runes on the academic side, while she was better at Arithmancy. They were both enjoying each of the subjects, but it was Dudley, living and working in the wider community, who was processing fastest at understanding the community they had joined. Living in the castle isolated Petunia from the wider society some what although her colleagues and Maria's parents were all helping as much as possible, it would not be until the summer, when she could live outside the School, that she would be able to begin to explore life in wider magical Britain. Still the excursion with the students would offer her a short opportunity, the group would be staying in a hidden magical hotel after all, one of quite a few in the City they were to visit, which was a popular destination in both communities.

The group got off the train at the rarely used and hidden, platform at York, a place barely noticed on the usual trip by students on the Hogwarts express. Emerging into the main station via an old station store room near the Muggle platforms, they soon had the appearance of just one of a few groups walking purposefully about the broad expanses between the sets of tracks. The massive curved roof supported by decorated Corinthian pillars impressed the young wizards, the mile long metal structure seemed to dwarf the one at Kings Cross that they all knew, as it covered the sweeping tracks, sheltering those on the platforms beneath. Leaving the platforms, they entered the concourse, adverts for local attractions were high above them, though hardly noticed as they were funnelled between a shop and a small tourist information centre then past a semaphore signal mounted in a flower bed, walking towards the doors. Exiting the station through the main entrance, they followed a busy footpath alongside an equally busy road, they saw the city wall set on a grass covered mound, with spring daffodils strewn through the grass, brightening the bank for spring. Not far along they paused to cross the busy road, Petunia demonstrating the proper use of the pelican crossing in a real setting, amazing a portion of the students, when the traffic actually stopped and the green man appeared, to tell them they could walk across it while the vehicles waited, many had doubted it would actually work when she had shown them at Hogwarts. They passed between a burial ground and the City wall, pausing at the notice which explained that it was a Cholera Burial ground, which led to Petunia and Hermione explaining what they knew of the Black death. After a few minutes they continued along the wide path, separated from the road by the grave yard until it guided them through a wide arch through the pale stone work of the wall. Looking left along the road they were to walk along, they saw the gigantic Minster dominating the view above a line of Muggle traffic that stretched along the road towards the massive Cathedral, a view they enjoyed as their route took them down a slope, curving towards it.

Suddenly, Hermione grabbed Ron's arm as they waited at another pedestrian crossing over a road that intersected with the one they were following. This time one of the students had operated the crossing control, with almost child like pleasure, much to Petunia's approval and amusement at the simple pleasure the young woman had taken in pressing the button.

"I don't believe it!" Hermione muttered. "Look where that bus is going."

Ron looked up at the destination board on the front of the bus, which had just stopped at the lights. He read it as they began to cross the road, it's destination read. "Tang Hall."

"You must be bloody joking." Ron exclaimed, chuckling.

Neither could remove their eyes from the bus as they crossed the road with the students.

The couple glanced to each other and suddenly Ron burst into laughter as they walked up the slope to a bridge over the river, heading towards the Minster.

"What's so funny?" Hermione spluttered.

"Sorry 'Mione, but it is hilarious." Ron gasped, still chuckling.

"What is?" She asked, growing a little exasperated.

Ron ignored the danger sign and ploughed on. "You spend months trawling through books and find nothing, ten minutes in Muggle York and you find it on the front a bus, assuming it is the right place of course. So much for libraries and books, you just needed a picture of a bus, still as I say, it must be just coincidence really though."

For once Hermione let his teasing go."Maybe, but we can't discount it, it could be the place. I mean York is nearly two thousand years old, founded by the Romans, some of the names of places in the city could still have ancient roots." Hermione countered as they crossed the main river, then grinned. "I need to check, perhaps in the local library, if I can find where it is, I'll ask at the hotel."

Ron groaned inwardly, he knew what it would mean if she found the City library or archive, he could only hope it was not too close. However his luck did not hold out, as within moments of crossing the bridge, they passed it, set back on a square, a ruin on one corner; Hermione, of course, spotted it instantly.

"Oh Good, that saves me asking." She smiled as her accidental revenge for his teasing took place.

They had arrived in the city a little early, so needed to fill a little time before they went to the Hotel, so rather than turning off this road to go directly to the hotel, the group continued to follow straight up the path, using another pedestrian crossing, operated by another student, they were now almost at the Minster. They stood in awe beneath its twin towers at the west end, realising it had been built without benefit of Magic, the sheer size of the centuries old building was incredible, even though they were used to Hogwarts Castle. Petunia pointed out several features, including the stone outline of the Heart of Yorkshire in the tracery of the great West Window. She pointed out, in a small park behind the Minster the the ruins of the old Archbishops palace with its old chapel, now used as the largest cathedral library in Europe. They would tour the Minster itself properly the next day, but after a few minutes she led them away, across the front of a smaller church beside the great Cathedral, to the nearby Petergate, where in the shadow of the Minster lay the birth place of Guy Fawkes, the man they had celebrated at the school for the last two bonfire nights at the school, the smaller church they had passed was the one in which he had been christened.

From here they walked past small shops, Wizarding ones hidden amongst the Muggle, it seemed throughout the city rather than in a single street like Diagon Alley. The street was full of tourists especially outside the fudge shop, which appeared to have a demonstration of how to make the sweet confection going on inside. They reached a triangular area, called King's Square, where they overheard a tour guide telling his group it was thought to be the site of the Palace of the Viking age Kings in the City, but more recently, a church had occupied the spot, until it had been demolished a few decades ago. Dudley noticed the square seemed popular with entertainers, as a fire eater began to attract a crowd. They headed down one side of the open area, behind the crowd watching the act and paused to look down the Shambles, the feeling of magic growing stronger in this area. Ever since they had left the station they had all sensed the magic here, the City was steeped in it, but they had also seen a large number of Ghosts, figures from a large number of periods drifting through buildings and along ancient streets, mingling unseen by the Muggles, but here the power they could feel here was the strongest so far, built up from Millennia of magic users in this place. The narrow street was full of timber framed medieval buildings, some almost meeting across the stone setts that made up the road surface, it was very reminiscent of Diagon Alley in London. Shambles was mostly Muggle, although there were, as seemed to be the case in almost every street here, a few magical retailers there too.

It was a street they would have the chance to explore later, so they carried on past the end of it, through the market and out into a broad street with many Muggle shops on either side. Turning right, they crossed another square diagonally and entered the street that led from it. They had not gone far along it, when Horace stopped in front of an empty lot, which had been paved and which was set slightly higher than the path along the road it faced. Once all had gathered round, he indicated the mosaic of a snowy owl set high on the wall, which winked at them, everyone knew they had arrived at the main Wizarding hotel in the City. It had been a deliberately circuitous route around the city to get here, to introduce the students to the main magical areas as well as some of the of the Muggle sights. While Whitby had one, York had a number of hidden Magical Hotels and they had reached the biggest of them within the City wall.

Horace began talking, as if giving the group instructions or describing the history of the area, as he did, every so often two or three of the group made their way to the wall beneath the owl and passed through. Ron and Hermione went through first, to ensure that the students behaved whilst they all came through from the busy street outside. They found themselves in a well maintained, opulent, reception area and gathered the group together as they watched for the next to come through. Last in was Horace, his arm around Petunia's shoulder, to ensure she could get through; one of the prefects had brought Dudley through in similar fashion a few minutes earlier, ensuring the two none Magicals were allowed through the Wards. As the last of them came through, a witch rushed over to welcome them.

"Ah, the Hogwarts party. Welcome to York and the Bubo Scandiacus Hotel." The receptionist greeted them.

Soon they were settled into their rooms with a free afternoon to explore the city on their own, each student was given instructions on the location of the hotel as well as how to summon help should they need it before they set set off in small groups. Organised visits would begin the next day, with a number of visits to Muggle attractions. Hermione smiled as she saw the various Muggle born students leading pure bloods out, explaining some of the non-magical necessities of surviving in the City, such as pounds and pence, as well as why there was more than one bank. For once in their school life, the wizard raised were at a disadvantage to their Muggle raised classmates, it was interesting to see how each coped with the role reversal. Ron and Dudley were planning to explore the City, Dudley was going to introduce him to the delights of fast food, while Hermione went to the library. The hotel had also given them all maps of the city, at least the part of it within the city walls, or bar walls as they were called, the maps showed both Muggle and Magical attractions. So long as they stayed in groups with at least one Muggleborn in it, they were free to see what the City had to offer. With the students gone Petunia and Horace left to wander preview some of the places they would visit starting the next day, leaving Ron Hermione and Dudley to do what they wished. Once the three stepped out of the door, Hermione opened the map, looking at a panel to the side of the map, she squealed.

Ron and Dudley, startled, looked at her. "What 'Mione?" Ron asked.

"I don't believe it! How could I have forgotten that, it's famous." She garbled excitedly.

"What is?" Ron asked puzzled, none of them had been here before so far as he knew and although he had heard that there was a Wizarding community here, he could not think of any reason for such a reaction from his fiancée.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Look, it lists the names that York has been known as over the last two thousand years. The Romans founded the city in AD71 and called it Eboracum, then it was Eoforwic to the Saxons and Jorvik in Viking times, eventually becoming York."

Ron looked thoughtful, but Dudley's eyes brightened.

"Of course, I remember that being on telly. There's a Viking Museum here somewhere with time cars and everything."

Ron looked even more puzzled "Muggles have time travel? That could be dangerous, especially in a museum, I mean we have time turners, but they only work over a few hours and there are really strict rules about using them. We would never be allowed to use them for entertainment, how come the Muggles are?."

Dudley looked stunned "Er, no Ron, we haven't got real time travel."

"But, you said they had time cars." Ron pointed out indignantly.

Dudley laughed. "Over to you Hermione, I don't think I had better show him Dr Who yet, I don't think he is quite ready for Muggle Science Fiction." He laughed, as did Hermione, while Ron pouted comically.

"Oh, Ron." Hermione sighed. "It's a trick of some sort, not real,just the illusion of time travel. Besides it's the name, Jorvik that I was referring to, not the museum, though I should have remembered it. Remember Tigelwotta's journal, it said Tang was near Jorvik."

Ron's eyes widened. "Then that bus?"

"Yes" Hermione grinned "It was definitely heading to the place Utred was Lord of. I need a map of the whole City, come on."

She headed off, up the street with a purposeful stride, pulling Ron behind her.

"Hey, where are you going?" Dudley called after them.

"To find somewhere to get a better map of the City." Hermione called.

Dudley sighed. "Ron did warn me Hermione got like this." He chuckled, and ran to catch them up.

"Hey Dud?" Ron said as he caught up. "Dr Who?"

"That's right!" Both Dudley and Hermione unhesitatingly replied.

They found the tourist information office near the theatre and purchased a map that showed the Suburbs. Sure enough, to the east of the city they found Tang Hall, the lady behind the counter was a fount of information. She explained that there had once been a Hall there, but it had been demolished a couple of decades ago after years in use as a pub, there was a new pub close to the site of the hall though it was not very characterful she said. She didn't know of any Viking or Saxon remains there, though she guessed it was possible for some to be undiscovered in the area underlined by what she told them about the origins of the name Tang.

"Unfortunately." She said, "The two becks that give the place it's name, now join underground in a culvert, to help prevent the area flooding. The land itself was gifted to the City by the last family to own it, the council built the houses on the estate in order to move people from some of the Victorian age slums within the walls into decent housing. It's still one of the biggest social housing estates in York, I live there by the way. It's not often we get visitors asking about it, is there a reason you're interested?"

Hermione nodded, "My family originates from the area, before the housing estate I believe, thought I might have a look round it while I was here."

The woman nodded. "Well I hope you're not too disappointed by it, it really is a typical housing estate of the early twentieth century and not much else."

From the tourist information centre they walked to the nearby bus stop where after a short wait, they climbed onto a waiting bus to travel to Tang Hall, Hermione taking care of paying the driver and settling Ron, reassuring him it was nothing like the Night Bus when had braced himself ready for the seats to move. He soon settled down to enjoy the journey through the City, fascinated with much that he could see, amazed at the sheer number of vehicles on the roads as well as the variety. Thankfully, as the bus began to fill with passengers at the stops in the City centre, he had enough sense to whisper any questions about Traffic lights, what the various signs meant or anything else he could see from the window as they went past.

The journey took them back along the road they had walked earlier, back over the River then turned left through tall buildings, stopping a couple of times before recrossing the river again. They passed a sign advertising the Viking centre, an arrow on it pointed the way, before passing a church and stopping again for passengers to embark or disembark, soon they realised they were heading out of the City Centre. They saw another small part of the City wall as the bus waited at some traffic lights at a bridge over a smaller river, the map they had with them showed it to be The Foss, after which the character of the city changed. Once out side the City Wall, they entered a light industrial area before that gave way to residential, it didn't take too long after that before the driver told them they had reached the stop nearest the estate's community centre.

According to the map this was close to where the becks merged, albeit underground, so was close to the location of the site of Utred's Hall. They got off the bus, thanking the driver as they left, he told them where they could catch a bus back into the City, which again they acknowledged gratefully, but the trio would probably Apparate back to the hotel once they filled Hermione's curiosity. The doors of the bus hissed closed and it drove off leaving the three of them to take in their surroundings, which given the description the lady in the tourist information centre had given them, was surprisingly rural looking. A copse of trees faced them planted in regimented rows, between two roads. Behind the trio, on the opposite side of the road was a field, covered in white daisy's, beneath which they knew ran the culvert carrying one of the becks, a single figure was throwing a ball across it for his dog to retrieve, it was barking happily as it ran after the toy. Beyond the field was a long row of blocks of houses, most of the blocks of the same design as each other. It seemed to be a pleasant enough part of the estate, though they had been warned the area was not without its problems. Even so, they could hear the noise of birds singing and children playing, above the noise of the traffic on the roads.

Hermione, glancing round to ensure no one was close enough to notice, surreptitiously took out her wand, and cast the point me charm, thinking of finding the location of Utred Huntrodd's home. The wand spun on the palm of her hand, held out in front of her, then slowly settled, to point in the direction in which they needed to go. They walked back along the road they had travelled in the bus, until they reached the cross roads at the end of the trees. They knew there was a parade of shops along one of the roads, they had seen them from the bus, but the wand indicated they should not go in that direction, but up another of the roads, past the end of the rows of trees. They crossed the road though, to look curiously over a metal fence bordering a wilder looking woodland, where they could see the beck disappearing into it's culvert beneath their feet. They turned and followed the path up a slope to higher ground, as they followed the wand, which guided them past some houses, then they saw the pub sign outside a modern, bland looking red brick hostelry. The wand spun to guide them into the pub's car park, they followed it towards the back of the expanse of Tarmac until, suddenly, the wand spun round again. This had been the site of the original Hall of Tang, its remains hidden, probably deep beneath the tarmac and layers of deposited material, forgotten long ago it's name surviving as the only indication it had ever existed at all. Hermione found herself wondering if any of it remained at all,she doubted it after so long, this was quite an anticlimax after her anticipation.

The half empty car park was overlooked by several houses, as well as from the windows of the busy pub. The three young people standing in the car park would soon start attracting attention, if they hadn't been already.

Realising this despite her feeling of disappointment, Hermione cast some privacy charms around them, to prevent them drawing attention. "There, we should be fine now, no one should disturb us while we are here. This must be where Utred lived, the site of it anyway."

"It is indeed where I lived my lady, I thank you for creating the screen so I could appear." A voice echoed behind them.

They spun round quickly, Ron and Hermione immediately had their wands in their hand. They watched as a ghostly figure slowly materialised before them, knowing the ghost could not harm them, the wands were soon returned to there holsters. Almost completely transparent in the bright sunlight, the figure was obviously from ancient times. Despite his shimmering translucence, they could see the proud impressive figure was dressed in a simple, rough tunic and loose trousers, sword and axe hung from a leather belt. His beard was full, his face betrayed age, though the man was, from the way he held himself, obviously used to being respected and in control.

"I have waited many years for this day." The ghost growled. "I am Utred, Lord of Tang. I was killed in a cowardly attack here, where my Hall once stood, burnt alive by the treacherous Archbishop's men allied with that sly cur, Styr's sworn men. My family died with me, except my son, I don't know what became of him, he never returned here and I have waited here for him."

"Your son was Utred Huntrodds, wasn't he." Hermione asked.

"He was, my lady, as was I in life and you are either not used to our ways, or you are deliberately being rude to your Lord." The ghost paused, his anger suddenly fading, and a smile appeared beneath his beard. "Ah, you are of my blood, my descendant, young Utred must have survived for you to be here."

"I apologise my Lord, but your customs are strange and little known to us, no offence is being deliberately perpetrated." Hermione replied.

"It is of no matter my child, your existence gives me the news I need to go to my rest at last, I have so hoped for any news of my son. You are strange like him, he had odd abilities, we believed he may be a wizard, I knew one once, though we could not admit it with all those Christians about. They claimed their nailed God frowned on magic, don't see how he could if what they said about him was true. Healing people, turning water into wine, he must have been a wizard himself. They even claimed he rose from the dead, sounds like magic to me. More like they couldn't stand others stealing his glory if you ask me." The ghost paced the shield boundary as he spoke. "Yes, he was magic and so are you my heiress, you are the first of my blood to find this place, tell me of my son and yourself child."

Hermione told her ancestor about herself and what she knew of Utred and the curse, the ghost seemed particularly shocked at this. He had not met any of the spirits of his descendants and realised he was the last of his family that could have gone to rest, until Hermione could free them.

"My dear lady, it seems that whilst you bring a tale of sadness, it answers a great puzzle for me. I have been unable to rest whilst I did not know the fate of my son, yet I have been unable to leave this place either. It would also seem that no spirit of my kin could come here either, as none has done so, nor any in life come to that. You tell me that for a thousand years none of my kin has been able to rest, yet you hearten me to know Utred was a warrior and Gryffindor, who I met, found him. I hope that my son at least avenged my death, though I am not sure how he could have without returning to Jorvik. That all said, with all this news that you bring me, I find I an drawn away at last, thanks to you, I can now rest. My gratitude to you, I hope you can free my family soon, so I may meet with them and my son. My time is finally done, I wish you well and long life with happiness my descendant, fare well." With that the ghost faded and was gone.

Hermione cast a charm to remove the protection from the area the moment they had left, then they Apparated as planned back to the hotel, Dudley side-along with Ron, she had discovered all she could at Tang.

Hermione hugged Ron hard when he appeared at the hotels apparition point. "We found it, we can do this Ron. Once we are married, we can free them." She said.

"Yes, but I still don't understand why we needed to find it." Ron said.

"Because it is the source of my family, I am linked to it now. Utred's only failure was he never regained his ancestral lands near York, but this was his desire. By being his first descendent to return there, it has unlocked any other reason to hold Utred here on earth, his father being able to pass on proved that. His unfinished business on this world is complete, Tigelwotta and he worked that out. If I hadn't found Tang, his rightful home and place of his families murder, if I hadn't returned there, the magic would not have reclaimed it as Utred could not, then he could never rest despite the founders actions, he would have been stuck here alone. Contrary to the story as Minerva tells it, Utred and Frayja were married before the curse was applied, but Utred never regained his family's lands. The story was changed over time with retelling, before it was written down I expect, there's enough truth in it, but it was probably embellished over time. I believe Frayja was pregnant at the time of the curse, if that is the case, it was their first child to survive, their only child to reach adult hood. But, Ron, all that's important is, that some time after next week, once we are married, we can free them all, all that remains is to discover how we do that."

* * *

 **Authors Notes:**

Many thanks to those of you who read the last chapter, especially those favourited this story, me as an author and those who reviewed the chapter as well, your comments are much appreciated. I look forward to reading any reviews you are kind enough to leave of this one too.

Until next time.  
Tgfoy

 **Historical notes:**

Seanchair = Sanquhar in Dumfries and Galloway.

Dùn Phris = Dumfries

Aelfereton = Northallerton. Administrative centre of North Yorkshire.

Uisge Beatha = Gaelic name for Whiskey, literally means water of life. In fact it is probable that the skills to make Whiskey did not arrive in Scotland (or the UK for that matter) until the 14th century, but I couldn't resist using it as the restorative brew for Utred in this instance.

A leafy branch was used as a sign of truce, allowing talks to take place between enemies without threat of attack.

Shambles was once known as The Great Flesh Shambles, most likely from the word Fleshammels, a corruption of shammels the Anglo saxon word for the shelves in front of the shops in this case that butchers used to display their meat (Flesh shammels = Fleshammels = the great flesh shambles = Shambles). As recently as 1872 there were twenty-five butchers' shops in the street but now there are none left in the main street, (just a pork pie shop) although there is still a butcher in the adjacent forshortened street "Little Shambles". Today Shambles is a popular tourist destination with a variety shops and cafe's as well as a shrine to a local lady who lived in the street, was martyred and eventually cannonised, Saint Margaret Clitherow.

Many street names in York end with the word Gate, this is from the Norse "Gata" literally the word for street. This results in the local phrase, "Streets are Gates and Gates are Bars." which refers to the fact that the ancient gates (still existing) in the city walls are called Bars (so called because they Barred entry to the city they protected).

Huscarls: this title was given to either non servile manservant's or personal bodyguards such as household troops to a Lord or King, in other words sworn men.

Bubo Scandiacus, is the Latin name for Snowy Owl.

Route of the Hogwarts Express.

I have seen many explanations for how the Hogwarts express works magically, but not one showing that with one limitation, coal capacity, which could be rectified through engineering, it would have been possible, though improbable, for it to operate by Muggle means while Magic simply concealed it from view. It seems to be often forgotten that with the use of water troughs for the collection of the liquid at high speed, Steam trains operated non stop between London and Edinburgh regularly. However the clincher for the route through York for me is that the LNER, which operated the route before Britain's railways were nationalised, was the only one of the two companies that connected London and Scotland to build and use corridor Tenders enabling the locomotive crew to be changed without the train stopping. It provided a walkway, albeit narrow, between the carriages and footplate so crew could literally walk from one to the other with ease.


	18. Oaths

Disclaimer: As always, anything you recognise from the novels by J.K. Rowling belongs to her and I make no claim on it, anything else however is from my weird imagination.

* * *

 **Chapter 18**

 **Oaths**

 **Late 20th Century**

The Granger and Weasley mothers were taking the opportunity, while their offspring were on the school excursion to York, to complete arrangements for the day of the wedding. Harry was, naturally, to be best man and Ginny Matron of Honour, so were also present at the church with the women, making arrangements with the vicar for that part of the day's ceremonies and decorations for the church.

St Catchpole's was a traditional medieval church, made of local stone and embellished in the Victorian age, although this had been done sympathetically to the older parts of the building. A porch sheltered the door into the main building, which consisted of a nave between two aisles, all full of pews, two rows of pillars ran the length of the building to the wooden quire screen. A castellated tower was at one end of the nave, while the altar was at the other, separated by the screen, behind which were choir stalls,organ and altar. A door next to the choir stalls led to the vestry, which had its own doorway to the outside where a path from it led across the church yard, towards a gate close to the vicarage. Right outside the door, next to the path, were the excavated remains of what had been a Roman temple, although little more than foundations remained, among the finds discovered were items for period Pagan use, then later early Christian and then Saxon Pagan, all from before the present church had been built, all demonstrating the site had been of religious significance for millennia, There were a number of memorials in the church, two with a carved knight on them, one lay with his lady, the other a solitary figure in the opposite Aisle. The large stone font was thought to be the oldest part of the church surviving, though it now had a tall, heavy, ornately carved wooden cover, on the end of a perfectly counterbalanced system that enabled it to be raised by the pressure of a single finger. Each window was filled with stained glass, all but one depicting images from bible stories, the last had been installed after the first world war as a memorial, a function it now filled for both world wars. The tower housed a Ring of eight bells that twice a week rang out over the surrounding countryside, there was also a separate bell which was automatically struck on the hour, as dictated by the clock added to the tower by the Victorians. A flag pole rose from the centre of the tower's roof, topped with a gold coloured weather vane, from which flew the flag of St George.

The Muggle vicar of the Parish church, which gave the village part of its name, was delighted that Hermione and Ron were getting married in his church, it had been quite some time since he had conducted a wedding in the village. Sadly funerals, including the one for one of the Weasley's son, were more common given the ageing population of the village, especially those who attended church regularly. The Wizard bonding would take place at the Burrow after the ceremony at the church, not that he was aware of that. The vicar, a rotund, middle aged, balding, jovial man was almost as excited as the two mothers, as they discussed the decorations for the church and arrangements for the rehearsal the day before the ceremony itself. He was enthusiastic to see the families of relative newcomers and a long established family in the village being united through the marriage of two young people. He was intrigued about how the two families had got to know each other though, the Granger's had been welcome newcomers to the village not quite two years ago, the Weasley's had always been considered eccentric by the locals although keeping themselves largely to themselves, thought of as odd, but mostly harmless by the other villagers. As the two women talked it was obvious to the vicar, who considered himself a good judge in such matters after after so many years as a clerk in holy orders, that the two families were very well acquainted and had, it seemed, known each other for rather longer than the period since the Granger's had moved here and were already good friends at the time. That was a bit of a mystery, he couldn't recall hearing of any family in the village more isolated from the community than the Weasley's were, not even the most remote farming family, yet the dentists had already got that link with the red heads before arriving here. It seemed fortuitous that the house the Granger's had bought from the old dentist with the surgery, backed onto part of the land owned by the Weasleys. He followed the four people as they left the church, Mrs. Granger turned to him and thanked him. As she did, all his ponderings on the relationship between the two families evaporated, he bid the two women farewell, not noticing Mrs. Weasley tucking her wand away, then headed back to the vicarage, between the church and the pub. Once he had gone, Harry and Ginny said their farewells to the two women, then Apparated back to Hogsmeade.

"That poor man, I feel guilty Obliviating him like that, but he is just so nosey." Molly sighed as she walked over to Fred's grave. "Had to do the same to him after the funeral, well at least the Aurors did. Trust George to turn his brother's funeral into a spectacular." She smiled wryly at the memory of the remaining twin's farewell.

Emma Granger smiled, although she had been in Australia under a memory charm applied by her daughter in a bid to protect them, thanks to that same daughter, she had heard the story of the funeral a few times and she had seen the fireworks at Harry and Ginny's wedding last summer, so had a good idea about how spectacular it had probably been. "I can imagine, he has a real talent for that." She stood silently for a while next to Molly whilst her friend communed with her dead son and cleared a few small pieces of wind blown debris from the well tended grave.

Grass had grown to cover the low mound of earth, but wild flowers still grew to punctuate it, giving the plot a cheery feel, less conventional than the other graves with urns full of cut flowers placed carefully on the ones that were still tended. It, like the young man it contained had in life, brought pleasure to many who saw it, especially when they saw it was the grave of someone who had died so much younger than they should.

After a few moments quietly communing with her son Molly looked up again and stood."I wonder what he has planned for the wedding, George I mean. Ron is his second in command at work now and with Dudley on staff as well, who knows what they'll plan for it." She grinned. "My Fred and George never did these things by half and if Ginny and Harry's wedding is anything to go by, those three won't either, it will be a good show, that's for sure, but please don't tell them I said so. Fear of my disapproval is one of the few things that stops them going too far."

Whilst the Granger and Weasley female elders were at the church, their husbands were in Arthur's shed, relaxing. They were supposed to be ensuring everything they needed at the Burrow for the following weekends festivities was in good condition and ready to be used, but were using the time as they normally would spend their Saturdays together, relaxing.

"Shouldn't we be doing something, really, Arthur?" Dan half heartedly asked. "I mean, just to keep the peace with the ladies of course."

"No need to worry Dan, Molly forgets that everything she told us to do, gets done with magic, take us a couple of hours the day before the wedding at most." Arthur assured his friend. "she was the same before Harry and Ginny's wedding last year, I got bits done the day before, then we got it all set up that morning, she never knew."

"What if the tent needs repair though?"

"Quite right Dan, that would really get us an ear bending if it needed doing at the last minute." Arthur conceded then pointed his wand at the marquee, which was packed and tucked under the desk "Reparo, there you go all done, now where's that fire whisky?"

Dan grinned. "Useful stuff that magic; usual weekend for us then Arthur."

"As near as we can manage is the plan, why worry after all." Arthur replied as he poured two glasses of the smoking liquid and handed one to his friend.

Dan thanked him. "A toast is in order I believe, to families uniting".

"To our families uniting." Arthur agreed cheerfully and they both took a swallow, then looked appreciatively at the glass in their hand.

The two men sat savouring their drinks and relaxing, occasionally refilling their glasses and offering another toast, oblivious to the passage of time, until.

"Arthur!" Molly's sharp voice bounced round in the shed, shaking the two men to their core.

"Oh, bugger!" The ginger haired man whispered as he turned sharply towards the door "Yes, my dear?" He smiled as he prepared for the tirade to start.

Five minutes later Molly left having made it clear she wanted to see her husband working, not drinking; however that wasn't the end as Emma appeared at the door and a new tirade, this time aimed at Dan, began.

Once she left the two men faced each other, downed the drinks and like all men who have been married for long enough have done, quietly followed the ladies, alternate. "Yes dear." Or. "Of course dear." And Quite right dear." Being spoken contritely at appropriate moments by one or other of the men as the law was being laid down firmly by their spouses.

Molly and Emma sat in the kitchen of the Burrow, mugs of tea in hand, part eaten slices of cake on plates next to them, forks on the plates ready to resume use. The two were watching their men, who were struggling to spread out the large canvas of the marquee that they had dragged out of the shed, in the paddock behind the house. So far their inspection of the condition of the canvass had taken an hour and a lot of loud colourful language, despite them assuring their wives that it had been repaired using the spell, they insisted they unfurl it to check it. The two men had been close to getting the whole canvas spread over the grass several times when it seemed the wind blew the other end over itself. This had been the practice for much of the last hour, as soon as the they almost got the task done, the canvas furthest from them was blown over, despite the bricks and rocks they used to try to hold it down. The two men were determined not to be defeated by the large canvas, as time and time again, they got within a hairs breadth of finishing this part of the task, especially after the tongue lashing they had received from the women earlier.

Inside the house, the two women were giggling and laughing, as the men struggled with their task, Molly occasionally waved her wand, causing the canvas to flip over at the end furthest from the men. "I wonder how long they will keep at it before Arthur remembers he has his wand and is capable of casting more than Reparo." She laughed.

* * *

The NEWT students had enjoyed their weekend in York, although the city had a sizeable magical community living amongst the Muggles, they had managed not to draw too much attention to themselves. They had discovered that the residents were so used to seeing people wandering the streets in the clothes of various different periods of history, it would have been likely that no one would have batted an eyelid at seeing a group dressed in robes anyway. The group had visited the Minster, the railway museum and Viking museum, they had walked the walls, explored Shambles and had visited a couple of other attractions as well as shops, both magical and muggle. They viewed a movie on the first evening at a cinema, which amused most, but the highlight was the ghost walk on the last evening. It was clear that the guide had never met a ghost, yet during the walk, the young witches and wizards saw hundreds populating the streets and been highly amused as the ghosts being talked about disagreed with what the guide told them, all unnoticed by the guide and Muggles. Students raised in both communities had learned much about the other, as had the adults with them, it had been four days that had taught them all more than any of them expected.

They returned to Hogwarts by the train, which ran specially for them again, leaving the hidden platform at York, which they entered in small groups, just as they would at Kings Cross. As the last of them passed through and onto the platform, the portal sealed closed again behind them, until it was needed again. They arrived back at the castle in time for dinner on the Monday of the first week of the holidays, the students full of talk of their experiences. Though like every seventh year before them, they would see little rest, as they used the break from lessons to ensure they were prepared for their exams in a few short weeks. In the meantime, the staff looked down from their table, happy that the trip had been so successful and that it had provided such a welcome break from the pressures the students were under.

While Dudley returned to his flat, Ron and Hermione went back to their cottage, tired but, excited, there were only a few days left before their wedding.

* * *

Ron awoke at the Burrow to the sound of his mother hammering on his door. "Come on Ronald, get up, I haven't time to mess about too long with breakfast today, there's too much to do. I'll clear it up in five minutes whether you have eaten any or not." She called. "Don't push your luck today."

After a moment while he remembered where he was and why he rubbed his eyes and stretched. "Yes, mum!" Replied the bleary eyed red head, slowly sitting up on the side of the bed in the orange decorated bedroom of his childhood and pulling on a dressing gown over his pyjamas, he opened the door.

Molly turned back from where she was heading down the stairs. "About time Ron." She said, then eyes widening, she turned and shouted angrily down the stairs. "George Weasley, get up here and undo what you have done to your brother this instant, I warned you that any pranks were not to hang over to today."

After a moment, during which Ron began to panic, George's voice was heard sounding back up the stairs. "What you on about Mum? I haven't done anything to any of my brothers, at least not until I've finished my breakfast, then they are fair game." He called in clear puzzlement.

"Don't play games with me today George, I don't know what you did to him at the stag night last night, but Ron is bright pink with large yellow polka dots. Come here and undo it at once." Molly shouted angrily.

"Wow! This I have to see." George called jovially and his foot steps were heard as he ran up the first flight of stairs towards them.

Ron didn't know what to do, but his mum had grabbed his sleeve and was dragging him down the stairs towards the first floor landing. They arrived at the same time as George, who took one look at Ron and fell about laughing. "By Merlin's probably quite crinkly bottom, that's brilliant." He spluttered. "I wish I had thought of it."

The sound of giggling from behind a door shut him up, as he smiled and pointed towards the door the sound was coming from. It was his old room, now used by Delilah to sleep in, but by both twins as their workroom.

"I might have guessed." Sighed Molly rolling her eyes. "George, you inspired them, you deal with it, I want a normal coloured groom in ten minutes, or there will be trouble." She went down the stairs, leaving a smirking, but worried George, a desperate Ron, and two giggling twins.

Harry and Ginny opened their door to see what had been done to Ron; one glance had them laughing. George grinned again, as he heard the renewed giggles from the twins; he pointed to the door, and Harry and Ginny nodded. Flinging the door open, the twins giggles suddenly became stereo yells of shock, then sighs of relief as they saw it was George.

"Oh George, don't do that, you gave us a shock." Tarquin gasped, recovering first.

George smiled. "Not that I don't appreciate the joke on Ron and today being a better day than most to get him, I think mum is about to have kittens and blow if you don't stop it, at least until after the ceremony. Remember what I told you about the signs to watch for with mum? Well, I would say she is getting close to a level ten temper, though Ginny thinks that may be under estimating it and I usually bow to her wisdom in such matters. For your sake I hope Ronniekins colouring will return to as normal as it is possible for it to get sooner rather than later."

Delilah nodded "It should end any second now, at least that's what it said on the boxes. We mixed a couple of them together to get the effect we wanted, got the idea for it from a show Mr Granger was watching the other Saturday. We thought Ron would look good in the same colours as Mr. Blobby from it, don't worry that was the last prank we have set up, we might plan more after the ceremony though."

George nodded and the twins stood, the trio turned and started to make their way towards the stairs.

"Hold on." Came a very stern voice that stopped them in their tracks.

George cringed. "Oh shit!" He muttered under his breath.

The three of them turned, slowly, to face Ginny as she stepped onto the landing, walking sternly towards them. "George, I am shocked at you, I thought you would have taught them better than that."

"Oh come on Ginny it was only a prank." Her brother pleaded.

"That's as may be, however you were supposed to take them under your wing, you have neglected your duties to our younger brother and sister and their proper education as a result." The red haired girl fumed.

George went white at the sight of Ginny's anger."But Ginny..." He started, but couldn't finish.

"No buts!" She interrupted sharply. "Haven't you taught them not to giggle when hiding, it gives the game away? Seems to me George, you have neglected the next marauders education in a basic fundamental way. You should be ashamed."

George deflated and sighed. "You are right Ginny, I'm sorry twins, I guess it's time I took my brotherly responsibility more seriously. You will be coming to spend at least one day a week with me in the shop in the summer, that will be when your real education will take place."

The twins looked up at him. "You mean it?" They asked enthusiastically, he nodded and they ran to hug him enthusiastically, before they all turned to go down the stairs

"Oi" Ron shouted indignantly, stopping them in their tracks. "What about me, I'm the victim here, never mind their pranking education. What if this doesn't wear off?"

"In that case..." Tarquin started.

"We would complain to the maker of the prank ingredients we slipped you..." Delilah continued.

Tarquin nodded "After all they guarantee it will wear off after a maximum period of time..."

"And that time should expire any moment now." Delilah concluded. "Besides, it might ruin his wedding day to receive such a complaint today."

George began to laugh as Ron failed to catch on for a moment, then his face showed that he had realised that the prank was from a range of potions he had added to the catalogue no more than a month before. Just as his eyes widened at his realisation, his yellow polka dots on pink colouring returned to normal.

"It would seem Ron, you and Dudley will not be receiving a complaint about this product from these customers." Ginny laughed. "Now, you can hardly have a go at the twins for using one of your own products on you now, can you?"

Ron opened his mouth to protest angrily, then closed it as the anger drained; then he burst out laughing. "Well done you two, a good prank, well carried out, Dudley told me about this Mr. Blobby once you know. Apparently on the telly whatsit box he pranks at something called Noel's House Parties, I shall have to see if Dan knows how to get in touch with them, they could be good customers."

"Well we were just showing our loyalty, supporting the family business and making sure as many of its products are tip top quality as we can." Tarquin dead-panned.

"Our familial duty." A look of angelic innocence fixed on her face by Delilah. "Ensuring they work properly in the field as it were."

Their serious, butter-wouldn't-melt faces lasted about five seconds after Delilah finished speaking, before they all fell about laughing, joined by the others on the landing.

Ginny was first to recover. "George has been teaching you some things better than I thought it seems." She laughed. "But, remember, mum saw through that act when he and Fred used to do it, so she is not likely to fall for it now either. Don't prank at the Burrow too often, unless you want to start a war, except on special occasions like this of course, then it's a way of showing us you love us. Mind you pranking Percy is always fair game, though not if you want him to help with homework."

The twins nodded seriously and they all went down the stairs for breakfast and to learn what duties they had been assigned in preparation for later in the day.

The morning was spent by the occupants of the Burrow preparing for the bonding ceremony that afternoon, erecting the Marquee, putting up lights and creating paths between it, the Burrow and the Granger's House. Molly watched her sons and Harry work while Ginny went to help Hermione get ready, the twins proved adept at arranging the chairs in the Marquee, a task which Dan helped with until he was called back to get ready himself. Soon afterwards Dudley and Maria arrived as did Fleur with Victoire, Molly gathered up her grand daughter to make a fuss of, while Dudley joined the work and the two young women headed over to the Granger's. Soon after, with everything ready, Harry took Ron back upstairs to get dressed, followed by the rest of the Weasley's, all of whom were present at one or other of the houses. All the guests who were to attend the service were going to go straight to the church, so they didn't need to organise a welcome party for them. Even the Prewitts, who had raised an eyebrow or two at attending a Muggle ceremony, but saw it as duty to attend had agreed to go. It was mainly family who would be attending the church, most of the couples friends and colleagues would not arrive until the Wizarding part of the celebrations.

It was not the first time the Weasley family had gathered in the picturesque Devon stone parish church that served Ottery St. Catchpole as it had for several centuries, but it was the first time a Weasley had been married there. The Granger's had been glad the Wizarding world was traditional enough that it was still the bride's choice where she married; it meant a gentler introduction to the magical world for some of the distant relatives who had only a vague idea of Hermione's talents, or what that meant. Not that any of them would hold it against her, but it would simply help those of her family that they rarely saw get used to the idea she was part of a different culture before they met it head on later. They had been told there would be a traditional wizard binding ceremony at the Burrow after the church service was over, even though they had no idea what to expect, they all seemed to be looking forward to it. The rest of the celebrations of the day would be taking place there also, but at the moment as the families arrived at the church the anticipation of something different was palpable from the various Wizarding guests.

George and Neville were acting as ushers inside the church while Percy, Charlie and Bill were outside keeping the Wizarding press at bay, the wedding of the second of the Order of Dumbledore couples was not going ton be broadcast live, but interest, although lower than for Harry and Ginny's wedding, was naturally high as guests arrived. There was some low key ministry security to help and Lee was going to record a report of the ceremonies for broadcast, but the couple had not wanted the attention their friends had been somewhat forced to accept. That didn't mean it was going to be completely avoidable, medals and decorations were to be worn for example, including Muggle ones that Hermione's family had earned, including military ones which a number of the had earned in the services.

Aunt Muriel's arrival at the church caused a stir, as usual, especially when she declared "I hope this Muggle priest knows what he's doing, I'm not sure I trust these newfangled ceremonies myself, what's wrong with a good old binding anyway." She winked at Ron and Harry as she took her seat in the pew behind them.

The Weasley's and a number of the Bride and Groom's old class mates chuckled at her antics. The Granger's side of the church didn't know whether to laugh, or feel sorry for the old dear who was obviously losing her mind. The Prewitts simply tried to ignore her; she had gone down in their estimation since she had sent them all very inappropriate, in their opinion, undergarments last Christmas from a Muggle catalogue she had borrowed from Emma, called Anne Summers. Not only had she got gifts for all the women from it, but also gained a new appreciation for Muggle inventiveness in ways she could shock that side of her family. Harry, Ron and Arthur had enjoyed the gifts she had bought their respective partners from it too.

Muriel looked round the church, she spotted the various reactions, especially the Prewitts, who were seated towards the rear of the church, she grinned, and called over to George. "George, did you set up that surprise in those pews the rest of my family are sat in?" She asked with mischief in her eye.

George had been guiding some of Hermione's guests to their seats, he winked to them before calling.

"Yes Aunt Muriel, it's set up just as you instructed in case they tried to sit anywhere except with you."

The Prewitt's went white, they had seen the, in their opinion, appalling shop George ran in Diagon alley, they could not understand how a member of their family could bear to be seen near such a business. As one they swiftly rose and moved to the pew behind Muriel, who smirked as they settled. "That's better, it's past time you lot lightened up a bit. I must say, I hope all you girls are wearing what I got you for Christmas. Don't worry if they wear out, I am sure Miss Summers fine catalogue will have some new ones I can get for you, I noticed a few jolly ones for you men too in the latest edition."

Hermione's relatives could be heard to chuckle at this, as they caught on to the teasing, Harry and Ron smiled as Muriel continued to berate the Prewitts for being so dull.

The day before, Emma, Molly, Ginny, Hermione and Andromeda had decorated the church with flowers as well as a pair of large displays either side of the altar and two more that were placed either side of the door, there were sprays of flowers at the end of each pew and garlands around each pillar. The Vicar and his wife had been delighted to see it once it was finished, even more so that the families had already told them the display could remain for the Sunday services, after which they had arranged for the flowers to be taken to a local old peoples home.

It was not long until the organist struck up the traditional Bridal anthem and everyone stood, Ron and Harry took their places, as Hermione walked down the Aisle on her fathers arm, looking radiant and the ceremony began. It was a traditional church service, unremarkable, but comfortingly familiar for the extended Granger family, intriguing, if unremarkable to the Magical folk present. Before the last Hymn the couple laid a wreath beneath the memorial window, in remembrance of friends and family lost in war, both Muggle and Magical, a minutes silence, observed by the entire congregation, ended with a family member in Army uniform playing the last post on a bugle, then the last hymn was sung.

After the ceremony the couple, followed by their families and those who had attended the church service walked to her parents house, through the Garden and out along the path into the Weasley's paddock behind. The guests took their seats in the Marquee, while other guests who had not attended the church arrived. While the church had been family and close friends, the bonding was to be attended by the couples colleagues and friends as well, they had allowed an hour between the two events. The Granger family watched in some amusement at the strange clothes many of the new comers were wearing, they were however speechless when Hagrid arrived and loudly greeted people in his usual exuberant manner, it was not long after he arrived that the ceremony began.

If the witches and wizards were surprised with the lack of spectacle in the Muggle ceremony, although much of it was similar to a magical wedding, it was nothing to the amazement on the faces of Hermione's extended family as the magical binding of the couple took place during the bonding. It was of course the first any of them had attended, so it was fascinating to them all. The glow from the bonding itself was not as bright as the one when Harry and Ginny had married, but it was still very strong indeed. The Oohs and Ahs from the various aunts, uncles and cousins of the three Granger's rose as their puzzlement grew at witnessing such powerful magic. The first view of the Burrow behind the Marquee had shaken many, but this spontaneous display amazed them even more. Harry's coach, brought magically from Grimmauld Place, hauled by two horses carrying Ron and Hermione into the tent at the start of the ceremony, had been the most mundane thing they had seen since this magical part of the day had begun. This was certainly becoming a day of revelations for many in the family, they might have known the nature of the young witch, but for most this was the first time they had seen what that actually meant.

Once the bonding was complete and they all began filing out into the sunshine, Mr Swiftshot began to arrange everyone for the photographs, commenting with a twinkle in his eye, that he wondered if the prints would contain any surprises. George with the twins had found the younger Muggles and were entertaining them with a few of the more harmless items from the shop, mostly Muggle style magic tricks, with a little true magic added for effect of course. Once the pictures were done, the reception began in the marquee, where the tables had been rearranged, when the meal was served it caused more amazement among the Muggles. They all had a menu including instructions to tell their plate what they would like from it, when they did they were stunned to see the food of their choice simply appear on the dish. The children were especially excited by it, even more so when it came to the puddings.

The speeches were succinct, but entertaining. Dan told a couple of stories of Hermione's childhood, that embarrassed her. Ron was very nervous as he got to his feet, but after a slight stumble at the start, he settled enough to deliver a very good speech, which Bill had helped him to prepare. Then Harry stood to deliver the best man speech, only a little more confidently than Ron had. Ron soon discovered that one of the disadvantages of having siblings was they gave away embarrassing stories from your childhood, for use in speeches about you, when Harry told a couple of anecdotes only they could have told him as well as a couple from Hogwarts. Once more Kingsley stood to give a short speech, about the couple, surprising some of the guests that the leader of the Wizarding world thought so highly of them that he would do so, they were even more surprised that he carried with him a message from the Queen to them as well.

Once Hermione got changed, the evening entertainment began. Recordings from both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds contemporary performers formed the main entertainment, the couple had decided not to have live music so that a variety of styles from both worlds could be played. The guests danced and talked, enjoying the food, drink and company, of course George and Dudley supplied an incredible fireworks display as the finale to the evening.

Harry and Ginny had loaned them the Daimler to take them away on honeymoon. Hermione following the tradition, before leaving, of throwing her bouquet of flowers high in the air towards the group of unmarried women of all ages who gathered round for the purpose, including a couple of her cousins. It was Maria who caught it, much to the chagrin of her cousins. Maria looked surprised to have caught them, then looked towards Dudley, who was stood between his mother and her father, who was laughing at her. He clapped his hand on Dudley's shoulder. "Well Dud lad, looks like you need to take her ring shopping soon."

Dudley was grinning, until he realised what had been rather unsubtly implied, he gulped then tentatively nodded, as Maria reached him and he took her in his arms. A grin appeared again on his face and not just because he was in her arms. "Your dad says we must go shopping tomorrow dear, giving him peace and quiet to start to write his speech in readiness." Dudley told her loud enough for her father to hear.

"Oh good, a shopping trip on Daddy, I think as he is being so generous, we'd better accept his offer. I know he needs his space to get that sort of thing right." Maria grinned.

The grin fell from her fathers face and his mouth fell open. Her mother pushed his mouth closed again with a finger and giggling said, "Serves you right for teasing them dear, now be a good boy, behave yourself and give them some galleons ready for the trip."

Dudley and Maria put an arm round each other and laughed as they watched the Daimler, with Hagrid once again at the wheel, drive into the lane carrying the happy couple. A moment later it performed a low fly past, brooms outstretched, with only the soft purr of the well tuned engine and whoosh of the of the wind through the bristles to accompany it. The Muggles present had become accustomed to strange things just happening today, but they were open mouthed at the sight of the car as it flew over their heads. They would never know that wards had been set around the Burrow, meaning that a memory modification charm would ensure any Muggles would forget the more unusual magical events, while they would remember the people and a very enjoyable pair of ceremonies as part of a very enjoyable day in good company. The requirements of the statute of secrecy had to be fulfilled, they could not risk someone talking, revealing the magical world. As a result, Mr. and Mrs. Granger, Petunia and Dudley, were staying the night until the ward was taken down in the morning.

A few days later Emma was talking with one of the relatives who had attended with their young son, the relative was chuckling about the boy's frustration that when he talked of the food just appearing on the plates and a flying car, they just laughed and praised his imagination. Emma took a deep breath and suggested that the family came to see her and meet Ron's parents properly soon, but they should also watch for odd things happening around the child in the meantime, just as they had with Hermione before they knew what was happening with her. She knew they must now have a wizard in the family and she was going to ensure they got as much help as possible.

* * *

 **10th** **Century.**

"We need to help those people." Rowena told them in a tone that dared the others to disagree.

"How?" Asked Salazar bluntly. "We don't even know precisely what the creatures are, never mind how it may be possible to control them, if we can at all."

The founder's reluctantly, nodded in agreement, no matter what they might want to do, it was likely they would cause more harm than good if they acted without knowing what it was they were up against.

Orin had sat thoughtfully throughout the young Lord's report and the ensuing discussion, carefully considering the description of the creatures Utred had given them. "Well, from what Lord Utred has said, it sounds like they are most probably Dementors to me, servants of Erebus as my grandfather called them in his stories, though I have no idea how he knew what they were." He told them thoughtfully.

Salazar looked at him shocked. "They can't be, they are extinct, killed off long ago."

"Only according to one of the stories, Sal, it was never confirmed." Helga gently told him, not wanting to start a row. "There are several other tales, which conflict with that one, all differ of course in detail at least, but apart from the one you mentioned, they generally agree on the main story. They tell us that the Dementors were forced into a dark valley, where they sank into a lake and marsh, disappearing into the gloom from where they came. Merely hiding where we cannot follow, not killed, but driven there by a charm of light and jollity, in a place where none should linger after dark."

Orin nodded. "The story my Grandfather told said that they were sought out by Witches and Wizards who drove them to the valley with Patronus charms, where they contained them, condemned them to lurk in swamp and shadow, feeding off the souls of unwary resting travellers. Perhaps you had better start teaching the students and others that charm if the Dementors truly are resurfacing, after all a defence will certainly be needed, though it is not the easiest to learn as far as I am aware."

"I agree, we must have a way of defending ourselves and others, but better start with teaching me, I know the theory, but have never cast it, never had occasion to." Godric confessed, the two ladies nodding in agreement.

"Good job I have." Salazar grinned. "Taught it to all my apprentices as a communication method, including that traitor, Styr."

"I thought you might have, Salazar." Orin mused, a knowing smile spreading on his lips. "Wasn't it your ancestor who created the spell in the first place?"

"Yes it was, Orin, from the family story it was at least, though no one really knows. It might take a while, but most of the students in my house can perform it, so we can teach all in the school between us, then the staff can teach those elsewhere. That leaves one other question though, we have no idea why, or for that matter how, the village our people stayed in is protected as it is, Utred said the creatures will not and could not enter it." Salazar observed

"That is odd, I agree. I'll look in Merlin's works, try to find an answer, though it may or may not be important." Godric replied.

"You know you lot ought to write journals on your researches, put them in a school library for all to use. Perhaps even gather as many books as you can to add to it, preserve them for the future." Orin grinned.

Rowena's face lit up. "That's a great idea, there are loads of people in Hogsmeade who could help as well."

"Not to mention Godrics Hollow." Helga interjected. "We could end up with the best library of magic anywhere, here in the school."

* * *

Spring was progressing fast and with it the warming weather, lengthening days and the coming battle season, who would want to fight in the cold of winter after all. The reports sent from Dunholm indicated that Styr's army was growing as more men joined him, while reports from Jorvik indicated that the Archbishop was now openly taking over the city, with the church's army enforcing his will in the absence of Styr. Helga, rather cheekily, having learnt that the royal palace in Jorvik was only lightly guarded, organised a night-time raid, intending to retrieve any documents on magic. She took a few of her students, stunned the few guards and Styr's household who remained to look after the Palace, then they searched the building. They discovered a hidden room with a wealth of magical objects, documents, even books. All of which they liberated, as Helga called it and took it all to the castle for examination. By the time they had finished the palace was stripped of anything Magical, nothing was left for the church to find if they looked.

Once the artefacts were examined, they discovered a number of books containing descriptions of very dangerous magic, as well as many about the more usual subjects. They were sorted and entered either into the library for documents, including a restricted section for the ones referencing dangerous magic or into an archive created in the room the Creaftas Ladies had built in the castle.

The Christian's festival of Easter would be celebrated soon, a moveable feast celebrating the death of their God who had been crucified, at least according to what the priests said. With the approach of this odd festival, it seemed that Priest supported armies were moving across the entire country. Not only were the Northumbrians gathering at Dunholm ready to move North, but on that country's southern border with Wessex ruled Mercia, there was a slow, almost imperceptible, yet constant, growth in the number of troops along it. Skorri and Lifa reported this had not been noticed by Styr, or at least he had not been told of it. In contrast, Jorvik's Archbishop seemed to know of it and was almost gleeful to hear that the southern army was subtly, almost stealthily gathering, according to Egil and Tofa who were spying on the city and on Hrothweard in particular. Leoforwic and Godiva were currently in Cofentre watching the Wessex King, who was resident there for the time being, far north of his usual residence in his capital at Wintonceastre, which in itself was suspicious. The Wessex King rarely left his palace there, or it's security for no reason, he preferred to stay where he was safe. This was the furthest North he had travelled in his Kingdom, there had to be a reason. With Utred occupied watching Thorfin and the other Creaftas taking their turn watching the southern Kingdoms, Tigelwotta and Hilde were taking their turn at training students, as well as residents at Hogsmeade and in Wales. As the tensions across the island rose, the Creaftas were fully occupied in service of the school and Constantine.

The population of Hogsmeade continued to grow daily with a steady flow of arrivals, mostly more men for Constantine's Fyrd. Surprisingly, this now included a number of Scandinavians, who had gone Viking to protect the trade they enjoyed with the Scots. Once Styr had been defeated these North Men intended to sail south to Jorvik and replace Styr with a new King, of their own choosing to secure that Kingdom, again to ensure their future trade position.

As well as the military build up around the castle, more witches and wizards arrived, including new students as well as those seeking sanctuary from the church. The sorting hat had unexpectedly decided it wished to start each ceremony with a song or poetic saga of it's own creation, no one could prevent it either, much to the annoyance of the founders and amusement of everyone else. They had discovered that Hogwarts herself had linked with the hat, this meant that they no longer had the power to silence the hat if it was, in their opinion, waffling. A fact the Creaftas and students thought was hilarious, especially as the hat's ramblings now usually teased the founders mercilessly.

Rowena's daughter had arrived to help at the school early in the spring, she proved a popular addition to the staff. Previously she had been helping at Godrics Hollow as well as in relocating any witches and wizards that they sent, safely in Wales and Cornwall, both of which were still Kingdoms in their own right. Cornwall, which although fiercely independent, was nominally Christian, had not had a bishop in residence for a number of years, was independent of the Archbishops enough to welcome any Magical folk into their communities, even helping protect them, so long as they were useful in the communities where they settled. The church had insisted that as it was a Christian country where Bishops had once been accepted, this meant the country was now part of Wessex as a result and still appointed one to try to bring it to heel. The Cornish had chased out each Bishop appointed by Wessex or Cantwaraburh and argued just because one man was lunatic enough to side with Alfred did not mean they would cow tow to the soft, rich fools in Wessex. The King of Wessex did not yet see it important enough to force the Cornish to accept his authority, not that, that reassured the man that had been appointed King of Cornwall, he could see that if Northumbria fell, or even defeated Wessex, then his neighbours eyes may well fall on the smaller target. The Cornish brand of Christianity embraced the benefits the magical folk in their midst brought them. Helena Ravenclaw had brought some Cornish fighters with her under the leadership of her fiancé who was a Cornish baron with a bloody reputation in battle. The Welsh were in a similar situation and watched events closely as well. They had suffered centuries of Mercian incursions and now that country was ruled by Wessex they expected no difference. They had never accepted any bishop from Wessex and the church, while present, was not yet strong enough to have much power and there were still enough who worshipped their own gods so that it was a safe place as well.

After her arrival Godric invited her to their next meeting of the Founders and Creaftas, at which she told how, as well as the three hundred Cornish, she had brought enough port keys for just over one thousand men with her from the Hollow, Wales and Cornwall. Not all were magical, but both counties had recognised that as Northumbria looked likely to fall, they would be even more vulnerable if the castle and Wizarding kind fell, than they would be once Wessex ruled the majority of the country.

They now estimated that they together with the Scottish Fyrd would have at least ten thousand men for the battle, they knew however, that the Northumbrians would likely have twice that number. Constantine was counting on advantage of local knowledge and surprise to win the battle; Styr still thought the Scots a disorganised rabble after all. They knew the time was growing close, but there were still men of these lands who were yet to respond to the King's call, including those who were not of the King's lands.

* * *

The Northumbrian advance patrol was slowly making it's way further north; they no longer sent a man back to Dunholm each day to report on progress, they no longer had sufficient men to spare for that task. Although they had over-wintered adequately, their horses had not faired so well and they had been left behind at the village, too weak from lack of food over the hard cold months. Now with spring and new growth, the valuable animals would recover, given time, but Thorfin could not afford to wait for them to be in full health again. He and his men had walked ever since leaving the village where they had wintered, they could collect their horses on the way back, after the battle. They were many miles from that friendly, if poor village now, a place which in some ways he wished they had not left, though it was not home that was certain.

They had also progressed many miles from that horrible lake side place where they had lost so many men although the time since that terrible night by the lake had done nothing to dull the memory. Thorfin had still not thought of a way to warn his father, without confessing the number of men needlessly lost, but he knew the time when the Fyrd would cross the wall was drawing close and it would not be long before he would be face to face with his father.

They were travelling deeper into the land of the Scots, the land getting increasingly rough and mountainous as they progressed, though they did not seem to be getting any closer to their goal. There were times when Thorfin believed he could feel magic in the air, power stronger than he had felt before, but as they progressed it would fade for a while before it would gain in strength, he put it down to passing villages where a number of his kind had settled, They were of no interest, not yet anyway, he was sure he would know when they were getting closer to the Castle they sought, certain he would feel a steady, constant increase in power when they got close enough to it. The terrain slowed them further each day, he lost a man or two each night and his growing discomfort preyed on him, they were all hungry, even though there were fewer of them their forays raiding and hunting supplied little. They saw few animals to kill, little fruit to scavenge and little left in the stores of the very few isolated settlements they had begun raiding, frustrating Thorfin, shortening his temper with all around him, he was not used to such discomfort. He began to wonder if this was all worth it and what was more, he believed they were being tracked, possibly herded, but he could not be sure and had little evidence of it, just a feeling. He definitely needed something to show for the amount of men he had lost and continued to lose, when his father caught up with them, a victory of some sort, especially if they did not locate this castle his father wanted before he caught up with them. Perhaps if they were being tracked and if it weren't by men his father sent after them to spy on them, then whoever that was might provide that triumph that he needed.

Utred watched the growing frustration of the usurper's son, as they continued to track him, knowing it would lead to him making mistakes, although it was also leading Thorfin down a path of paranoia, no matter his suspicions of being followed were true. In fact, already the Scots were benefiting from the horses left behind, which had been transported to Hogwarts when the supposed villagers had returned there after the Northumbrians had left. The beasts themselves were doing very well under the care of the King's horsemen and plentiful food on the schools grounds, not to mention the healing potions they had been given. Utred had detected the wizards left in the group, apart from Thorfin, they were faring slightly better than the remaining Muggles.

Although having to be more cautious, by still using disillusionment spells Utred and the Wizards in his team continued to spy on the group from within each evening. In this way they learnt that even the wizards who had been part of Thorfin's loyal men, were fed up of the usurper King's son. Utred used each evening to gauge the extent of the dissension, as well as encourage it of course. It seemed the winter and the Dementors had had a negative impact on morale and so if any individual attempted to desert the party, he ensured they could at least get away without being attacked by their country men. There were not many, but then there were few left of the force that had crossed the wall in the Autumn, even so Utred and the others ensured they were found before they had gone far. Any of the deserters who they found were wizards when they were intercepted, were taken to meet the founders who made arrangements to ensure the safety of their family regardless of if they agreed to switch sides, as they usually did, or not. Most of those that didn't, at least realised there was an alternative to Styr and although they would not fight, they did join one of the new communities in Wales or Cornwall. The few who remained loyal to the Usurper were sent to Azkaban island, stripped of anything magical found on them, though their families were still given protection. Any Muggles who deserted were captured and taken to the island, they would choose if they wanted to return home or not after the battle, but at least they would be safe.

* * *

Back at the castle that Thorfin sought, the founders were working on Salazar's problematic oath that he had made with Styr, none on the Scots side called him king any more, preferring to call him the Usurper instead. Salazar had extracted the memory of the oath being made, and placed it into a Pensieve so they could all review it, hopefully spot any loopholes in it, however unlikely that might be they could also work on any interpretations that may allow some leeway in the wording. The four all agreed that Salazar breaking the oath was not viable, to do so would have cost him his own life, which was an unacceptable price, so they were busily picking apart the actual wording and going over it with a fine toothed comb. As would be expected from an oath between two such naturally cunning men, it was obvious that each word was important..

"Well one thing is obvious from that, you know." Godric sighed after their first viewing.

"What's that?" Asked Salazar.

"Neither of you trusted each other in the slightest." The warrior grinned. "At least the oath does not specify you must kill anyone who kills the other, that gives us something to work with."

Salazar nodded. "That is true, through it is a small omission and I am sure Styr would argue it is what was intended."

Helga huffed at this. "Come on Salazar, surely a student of yours would know better than to rely on intentions over what the words actually used were." She grinned, as she teased her friend.

Giggling, Rowena added, "Surely, this cannot be; a student of Slytherin lacked the precision to ensure an agreement stated exactly what was intended? It's almost as if Salazar's intention was to allow his, at the time intended, student to deliberately mislead himself as to the intention, intended and the intended meaning did not specify the intention clearly, which resulted in the intended intent was left ambiguous. That said the question remains though, was this lack of specified intention the intent of Master or student?"

The two ladies burst into laughter, Godric grinned merrily, and Salazar rolled his eyes. "I am glad you can make light of it all." He groaned in return.

Once they had calmed down, the target of their joke spoke again. "Now the Jackdaws have calmed, the question is, what price can we put on the life of a Wizard, to satisfy magic and the oath?"

"I have an immediate thought on this, just a first impression of course. Unfortunately, I don't think this is going to go down well with anyone." Rowena offered grimly.

The others listened as she outlined her ideas, each would have a part to play and both Utred and Frayja would have to agree if circumstances required it. While the idea would need checking to ensure it was feasible with the Oath and the law, they soon agreed it was likely to be the best way forward for all concerned if Utred was the one who ended up exercising his right to revenge.

"Let us hope that someone other than our young Lord kills the usurper, then gets killed themselves, then all this won't matter." Salazar sighed sadly.

"Agreed." The others grimly chorused, though all knew Utred was likely to take his lawful right.

Orin, with Erik and Ulf, were dealing with the latest arrivals of Northumbrian magical deserters, who Utred had sent by port key. Each was vetted carefully and oaths were obtained before any were allowed to join the camp. Then they were kept alongside their fellow turn-coats as they revealed any and all knowledge they held of Northumbrian tactics for the coming battle. They gleaned a wealth of knowledge from these men, all of which was fed into the King's council, now held daily as the time of battle drew closer.

The Scots' army had grown to double the number there had been camping around Hogwarts and Hogsmeade over winter and still men and their families arrived. Plans were drawn up for getting the men to the chosen battle site to meet the main Northumbrian army when the time came. They would be at the site, waiting, ahead of the arrival of the invaders, setting and springing a trap, unless of course they surrendered before the battle, if that happened, then the population of these lands would grow significantly over night. They may well grow rich selling the Northumbrians into slavery, simply keep them themselves to help farm the hard land. No one expected that to happen though, they may have hoped for it, not one of them wanted to put their lives on the line in battle, but they would if they needed to. They knew their best chance was to fight more effectively than the enemy, they may have the advantage of not having marched many miles to the battle, but they still needed to keep their skills honed. The mood at the castle and in the camp was tense, as battle training, both magical and Muggle, grew in intensity as news from south of the wall spread and battle seemed certain.

* * *

Utred watched as Thorfin led his men into the valley where it had been decided last autumn that the Scots would meet the Northumbrian Fyrd in battle, once it arrived. The grass and weeds had grown, already completely masking the pit where the Yuletide sacrifices lay, the ground still soft over it compared with the rest though. There were now only a handful of the Northumbrians left with the King's son, not all those who had gone had defected, some had died of sickness in the last couple of days, they had been the last of the other Wizards with him. All that remained were well equipped warriors however, Muggle apart from Thorfin himself, but they were among his most trusted men, who knew the truth of his nature. The group stopped and began to pitch their tents and prepare fires, a couple of them preparing squirrels they had caught during the day, ready to cook a meagre meal.

Utred and his men settled to watch, until darkness fell, when they would approach the camp stealthily, though there was little they could learn from the few Northumbrians left they continued the practice. They had settled their own camp, concealed near the ridge of the glen and had also prepared for the night, though their preparations would be aided by magic. Utred had laid the wards, including a detection charm, around his men, they would know if anyone approached them, there was no need for more than one sentry to keep watch, a task they took turns in fulfilling throughout the night.

About an hour after Utred had come off his turn on watch for the night, his replacement shook him awake; his hand was instantly on his sword, ready to strike out if needed.

"My Lord, it's me, Guthrum. There is movement down in the valley, heading this way." The large Scot told him.

Wasting no time, Utred rose smoothly, wand in one hand and sword in the other automatically, just as the ward alarms sounded, someone was approaching.

The sleeping Scots instantly rose, swords, wands and axes in hand, alert to their surroundings, eyes darting around them. They formed a defensive circle quickly, surrounding the fire, which although would silhouette them, would not blind them in the dark.

A blood curdling yell rent the air, sending roosting fowl flying, the Northumbrians ran at them, charging the camp. The sound of metal on metal rang in the darkness as weapons met and Utred found himself facing Thorfin, son of the Usurper, while the rest faced the rest of his men.

"Come on you filthy, cowardly Scot; have at me, you've followed us long enough now. Fight me scum, and die trying to kill me." Thorfin taunted, grinning.

"I am Northumbrian, son of the usurper Styr." Utred laughed at the sudden surprise on his enemy's face. "That filth that falls from a dogs backside you call a father kills our kind in cold blood, as do you at his bidding."

"Traitor!" Thorfin yelled. "How dare you speak of your King in that manner." He drew his wand as an extra weapon.

"I dare speak the truth about the Usurper." Utred sneered, ready to shield himself wandlessly. "I shall kill him, as I will you, Earsling sprog of that cowardly, murdering thief."

Thorfin yelled and attempted to hit Utred with a stunning spell, whilst swinging his sword at the older wizard.

Utred's shield spell deflected the bright, but under powered, stunning spell and he dodged the sword easily, swinging his own towards his enemy, whilst Thorfin was recovering from his failed attempts. Utred's sword struck the wand, which flew from its owners hand in two pieces, cut through with little effort. Enraged at the loss, Thorfin quickly drew his Seax, a short sword, to use alongside the sword in his other hand.

Utred let the boy come at him, he had more skill in muggle techniques than he had expected, but still it was employed in a sloppy, arrogant manner. The two fought hard, neither breaching the other's defences, until Thorfin sliced Utred's tunic, revealing the mail links beneath.

"Is that the best you have?" Utred growled, a renewed determination to defeat the son of Styr. "I shouldn't be surprised though, just like your father he has others do his dirty work for him too, the coward sent you ahead to ensure his own safety before he dares come himself."

They circled each other once more, watching for the opportunity to strike. Thorfin looked breathless, but sneered back. "What would you know of a King's work? My father is an honourable man, who has defeated all who stand against him, with his own sword leading his men."

Utred smiled, he could goad this juvenile easily; he had not long been at Hogwarts when he had learned not to allow talk to cloud his mind during a fight the hard way, at the hands of Ulf, Erik and Godric.

"Leading from behind always was his forte; he sent you ahead to die, we have taken most of your men, not just those who abandoned you. Those left after your night with the Sceadugengan were easy to turn, your horses payment to us for your food over winter, they are back to health. Like father like son, like you, Styr could never lead men, not even in his brother's court could he gain or show loyalty. He begged the church to do his dirty work for him and murder your uncle, he didn't even have the guts to do that himself. Your beloved father was too afraid to allow you to even be trained by his own mentor, because of my mere presence at the place he would need to send you for it. He is too scared to come here himself, that's why he sent those he would not worry about losing ahead of him, testing the way."

Thorfin roared as anger over took him and he flung himself headlong to attack Utred.

The yell from the younger Northumbrian continued as he charged forward, Utred side-stepped a moment before impact, allowing Thorfin to pass him harmlessly. Turning to avoid being attacked from behind, Utred hit Thorfin on the backside with the flat of his sword, humiliating him further and watched his enemy turn as swiftly as he could, only avoiding running headlong into a large tree trunk by inches. Thorfin, showing the humiliation he felt at falling into Utred's contemptuous action, raised his sword to charge again. His sword high, pointing at Utred's head, he let out a blood-curdling cry, ready to charge once more. With a sudden thud, his yell changed to one of agony, his arm was pinned to the tree , an arrow sticking out from close to his wrist, he dropped both his swords, which fell to the ground, his now free hand clamoured in an attempt to remove the arrow shaft, just as the alarm sounded again.

Surprised, Utred whipped round, he had no archers in his group, nor were there any amongst the Northumbrians, that much he knew, so they were no being attacked by someone else, but who. If it was another group of enemy that they had failed to see, come to support Thorfin, then their aim was appalling. Seeing no cover, Utred crouched low to the ground, sword and wand poised, ready for an attack to come. Only Thorfin remained standing of his men, though that was mainly because his arm was pinned firmly to the tree. He was still trying to pull it free, with his other hand, each failed attempt causing fresh pain and a new yell of pain, as the tears fell. Utred caught the fresh tang of urine; glancing back, he saw a dark stain was growing on Thorfin's woollen breeches, smiling gently, Utred turned his attentions back to guarding against the unseen archer, the son of Styr was no longer a threat.

"Lower your sword, Lord Utred of Tang, we have not come to attack you." A female voice announced, as a figure appeared from the darkness. "Well, actually I have, but not in that way. I expect Frayja will deny me the pleasure of you stabbing me with your other sword as usual, doesn't mean I'm not going to keep trying to change her mind though."

Recognising the figure, Utred lowered his sword, signalled his men to do the same and looked round, noticing that his men were relaxing, but the defeated Northumbrians were not, as a number of the woman's tribe still held bows up, loaded with arrows pointing at them. Two of the southerners were dead, one of his own men badly injured, though the wound did not look fatal, he cast a healing spell at the man, blood stopped flowing from it as the injury healed, though the man would be a little weak from blood loss for a while.

"I take it, Lord Utred, that this creature is a puppet of the Christian nailed god and the usurper from the cowardly way he ordered his men to attack at night, rather than face you in the day time. I thought he would appreciate the courtesy of being treated in a similar manner to his God, though by the looks of it he didn't, by the look of the piss mark I am surprised something so small could produce so much, perhaps it's compensating for the deficiency." The woman grinned, indicating Thorfin, before adding. "Not a problem I would guess you have Lord Utred."

Ignoring her suggestive manner as he usually did for the sake of his relationship with Frayja Utred replied. "I wondered where you had got to my Lady, Constantine sent the message to you months ago. About time you turned up, you and the rest of your Picts." He grinned as the two grasped each others forearms warmly in greeting.

The Pictish men went past Utred's and surrounded the Northumbrians, Thorfin still whimpering, attached to the tree where his men were now being forced to gather. Not one of them tried to help their leader as he bled and whined like an injured puppy, his paled face streaked with the tracks of his tears, a pitiful sight over what was not too serious a wound after all. Utred's men could only watch smiling, as the Northumbrians were swiftly relieved of their weapons, then bound by legs and arms, now they couldn't help Thorfin, or escape. Grinning maliciously, one of the Picts broke the shaft of the arrow piercing the young man's wrist, then yanked Thorfin's arm towards him, pulling it off the splinter left, with the arrow head still deeply embedded in the tree trunk, stained with blood. Thorfin's eyes widened as he yelled in pain again, his bowels followed the lead his bladder had set moments before. His wound was quickly bound, before he was then tied up, disarmed and unceremoniously thrown with his men, none of the wizards present volunteered to heal the wound, that could wait until they reached Hogwarts.

A few minutes later Utred was sat next to the fire quickly built up by the Pictish men, sleep forgotten. They sat warming under the cloudless star filled sky, the silver sliver of the new moon a bright crescent above them, casting little light over them. The Picts and Scots sat round the fire, their captives tied together behind them, everything from their camp piled to one side, leaving only crushed vegetation to show where it had been. Utred was sat next to the woman, or rather she had ensured he would be. Shaking his head ruefully, he knew his role in her game, he turned to her.

"So why didn't you respond to Constantine? I thought you were allied to him." Utred enquired

"Oh, come on my friend, you should know I would have my fun with him. He might be King, but we are his allies not his subjects, you should have known we would always keep him guessing. Can't have the bearded wonder believe he can click his fingers and we'll be there at his whim no can we. You maybe, but then you are taken, unless...?" The Pictish leader said hopefully and raised a cheeky grin, before winking suggestively, knowing the reply, but enjoying her game as usual.

She played this game with Utred and Frayja every time the three friends were together, for her though it was not simply a game. They all knew she did not behave like this towards anyone else, she had genuine feelings for Utred, but she was a woman of honour and would not act on them without Frayja's say so. Since they had first met on one of the Creaftas rides on the Sliepnir, soon after the beasts had arrived at Hogsmeade, the two had swiftly become firm friends. The Queen was believed to be Utred's sister by many of the students, a mistake they neither bothered to deny, or correct.

"Frayja and I are still together Brida, you'll have to look elsewhere, as I tell you every time." Utred grinned back at the woman, accepting her teasing.

"And as I keep replying, there is no one else for me, but you." She sulked. "Frayja's one lucky girl, I'll have to try again to persuade her to share you with me. It's been fun watching you track this lot these last few days, do they know you have guided them across the country yet? They could have reached this far north well before Winter if it wasn't for you."

They heard a series of curses from the captives, which gave her the answer to her question, so Utred ignored it in his reply to his friend. "Best of luck persuading her, oh great and beautiful, not to mention mischievous, Pictish Queen." He laughed. "You've been trying for years and it hasn't worked yet."

Brida pouted. "I'll wear her down one day you know, you'll see."

"Constantine will be pleased to see you, you know and not just because of the number of warriors you bring." Utred grinned; he knew the King fancied the Pictish Queen, though she did not reciprocate the feelings in any way, but in these circumstances it was an irresistible tease.

"The bearded wonder had better behave, we will help him defend our homeland, but I will defend myself against the fat old King if I need to. You on the other hand, Utred, just say the word." She grinned back at him.

Utred shook his head in mock defeat "I'll never win with you, I'm glad I have Frayja as back up."

Brida grinned. "It is truly good to see you again Utred, you are the only one who ever teases back. Frayja is one truly lucky girl, shame you're a one off."

"So who is the one we pinned to the tree?" Brida asked, indicating the whimpering Thorfin.

"Oh him, he's Thorfin." Utred replied. "The usurper's son and heir."

"Well that's a relief, I should have hated to waste an arrow on someone undeserving." She replied.

The rest of the night was spent sharing news and telling stories of events since they had last met, until the sun began to rise over the horizon and the Pictish men produced food to cook for breakfast, which they shared with Utred's men.

Once they had eaten, Utred led Brida at the head of a long line of Picts towards Hogsmeade, the Northumbrian prisoners literally in tow on ropes fixed round their necks, Thorfin protesting loudly that they would pay for treating the son of the King this way throughout the hour long walk.

* * *

Life in the school was as normal as it could be after the arrival of Thorfin, meaning the rotation of men tracking him could be redeployed. With the Kings camp on the grounds and a growing army in the area the reminders of impending war was never far away though. New students still arrived, as their families took the opportunity for their children to apprentice to one of the four most powerful wizards of the age. The instruments in the castle still identified all with magical ability as they neared adult hood, wherever they lived on these islands. Godric's old hat sorted them, and continued to singing a song about the school and current events, especially offering its pearls of wisdom, and teasing the founders on each occasion before sorting the new students. It had become a much anticipated part of the welcome, by the students at least.

The students benefited from tutoring by many of the King's men, as well as the usual teachers, but there was still a nervousness in the air because of the battle that was coming. Even the Centaurs and other sentient inhabitants of the grounds offered to help in the defence of Scotland and the school. Offers which were accepted without hesitation, they were to defend the school and the remaining students, if the need arose.

Not all in the castle was war or work, Tigelwotta and Hilde had married, Godric had conducted the binding ceremony for his grandson with Flame adding her own blessing. This had triggered Hilde's father to present his only child with an invisibility cloak, one of three items said to have been won by three Peverill brothers, one of which was Hilde's ancestor, from Death himself. The other objects were a stone which returned the spirits of the dead to this realm, and had only ever brought sadness to the user, which was still in the family. The last was a wand, the most powerful wand ever wielded by a wizard, said to be unbeatable in a duel, it was long lost to the Peverill's, though its trail of death could be traced, as each owner was defeated in attacks and killed, perhaps one day it would be returned to the family, though it to seemed to bring only misery to its owner.

The happiness of the wedding of their friends was followed by Frayja finally persuading Utred that they too should bond. Sadly, before they could, she miscarried a child she had not yet realised with certainty she was carrying, it was her third. The evening it happened, Brida sat comforting the couple as they wept, there was no teasing from her that night, the queen knew how much her friend wanted to give her man a child. She cleaned up the room that night after Utred carried Frayja to lay her in their bed, she having cried herself to sleep, he sat next to his lady all night, not laying with her, but not leaving her either.

Next day, as the couple walked in the village, Fryga's eldest son, Hodda, bound up to the couple as they passed Orin's home. "Utred, Frayja look, I made my first wand."

The couple grinned at the boy "That's fantastic." Frayja smiled, as she examined it. "Now, can you use it?"

"I don't know, am I a wizard?" He asked.

Utred smiled as he took a turn inspecting the wand. He offered it to the boy "Try it and see, just point it where it can do no harm while you wave it."

Fryga appeared at the Ollivander's door, as her son took his creation back in his hand; he flicked it at some open space and a shower of sparks erupted from the tip. His eyes widened. "Wow!"

Utred laughed "Looks like another for Hogwarts very soon."

"Well done, my son, it looks like you have the ability." Fryga grinned, making him jump, as he hadn't spotted her. "Come now, time for you to eat, your brother is waiting for you."

The boy ran into the house calling his farewells, his mother shook her head and smiled sympathetically to the couple. "I heard of your sadness, I am sorry, how are you both today?" She asked them gently.

"Recovering, we needed to get out for a while." Frayja answered "I'll be ready for our bonding in a few days."

Both Fryga and Utred's eye brows shot up.

"Well why not?" The future Lady Huntrodds insisted.

Utred was first to recover enough to agree "Yes, why not."

Frayja smiled to him as Fryga finally nodded.

Godric performed the bonding of his two apprentices, three days later starting the customary three days of celebration. It was the last celebration the community had before the expected war began.

* * *

Authors Note:

Well as promised I have not sat on this chapter once it was ready, so it is here for you a little sooner than has become usual, anyway as usual my thanks to those of you who continue to read, favourite etc this story. Many thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter.  
Looking forward to seeing any left for this one.  
For once the Historical notes actually cover aspects of the story from both periods, hope they are helpful.  
Again as usual, until next time.

Tgfoy

* * *

Historical Notes:

Mr. Blobby, was a fictional BBC TV character who appeared on a programme called Noel's House Party and caused chaos, but had an unlikely UK Christmas number one and lived in the equally fictional village of Crinkly Bottom.

Cofentre = Coventry. This name is one of a number of theories about the name of Coventry in this period. Bearing in mind that F was pronounced v by the Anglo-Celts and Mercians this is thought to mean convents town or convents settlement. (Cofen (or Coven) meaning Convent and Tre which is Celtic for settlement.

Wintonceastre: Winchester, capital of Wessex and later England until the eleventh Century when London became the Capital.

The Value of a Life: If anyone was killed outside battle then the Lord of the victim would determine a price the Killer must pay. Gold perhaps for another man's slave, up to death for a Lord or above. In this way a value was placed on someone's life.

Frayja's position of having lost children at or before birth was not, sadly, unusual. About one in four children who were born successfully died before reaching the age of six.

Outline of the reuse of religious sites in Britain.

The Romans were mostly pagan and built temples to their Gods across the country, in line with the Empires beliefs, crushing earlier beliefs in this country to such an extent that we know next to nothing about pre Roman culture and belief in Britain. It is not even clear what Druids were or even if they had anything to do with the pre Roman religion or were something else entirely, although we do know that some did carry the title. Modern Druids being based on much more recent supposition, than any specific knowledge of ancient times at all. In the 4th century when Constantine was declared Emperor in York, Christianity became the official religion of the empire and many of the temples in Britain were converted into churches. With the withdrawal of the Romans, many of these sites reverted to pagan temples based on the Roman Gods. In addition many Christian sites that had been constructed where no temple had existed were taken over for the worship of the older Gods. The arrival of the Saxons reintroduced Christianity to Britain and re converted many sites, while others were abandoned. Both beliefs shared festival times and coexisted in relative peace, even with the arrival of the Norse and their beliefs. The Christian Church gained land, power and influence, eventually to the stage where it was the only religion seen as acceptable, a position consolidated after 1066, throughout the medieval period and beyond, to the point where other beliefs were forcibly oppressed with official sanction. Although other beliefs are more openly expressed without Crown or Parliamentary restriction today, Christianity remains the official religion of Britain to this day. That said, even these days across the UK when places of worship fall out of use, they have been bought for reuse, including by other religions as well as secular uses. A case of history being repeated perhaps.

Position of the Vicarage. Certainly in many villages in Yorkshire, either the Vicarage or vestry door of the church was closest to the pub, a good way (although not certain) of finding the pub in many a small community is to look for the church tower first, often the pub is close by.

A "Ring of bells" is the name bell ringers give to a set of bells hung for English full circle ringing. The term "peal of bells" is often erroneously used, but a peal refers to a change ringing performance of more than about 5,000 changes. The vast majority of "rings" are in church towers in the Anglican church in England and can be three to sixteen bells, though six and eight bell towers are the most common. They are tuned to the notes of a diatonic scale, and range from a few hundredweight (100 kg) up to a few tons (4,000 kg) in weight. They are most commonly associated with churches as a means of calling the congregation to worship, but there are a few rings in secular buildings. Smaller rings of bells, known as "mini-rings" have come recently into existence for training, demonstration or leisure purposes, with bells weighing just a few kilogrammes.


	19. Sceadugengan Summer

Disclaimer: As always, anything you recognise from the novels by J.K. Rowling belongs to her and I make no claim on it, anything else however is from my weird imagination.

* * *

 **Chapter 19.**

 **Sceadugengan Summer.**

 **10th Century.**

It was two weeks to the day after the Archbishop had left Dunholm, soon after the sun had risen in the sky when the sound of horns rolled out over the massed Fyrd of Northumbria, from the city wall and Styr rode out of the City gate, dressed in his finest at the head of his men. It was an impressive sight, meant to impress and inspire the men of his Fyrd, his personal guard were riding behind him two abreast in a column flanked on either side by riders carrying banners aloft that flew spectacularly, streaming behind as the group rode hard towards the waiting army. Thousands had been camped outside Dunholm, the Northumbrian Fyrd had gathered, the Lords who had brought their men. As the King approached a blood-curdling yell from them all filled the air, a signal of their readiness to follow him into battle. The camp had been struck quickly before dawn, as the order to prepare to march had been given, now the men were ready, weapons in hand, shields on their backs, Lords on Horse back with mounted guard at their sides and their banner flying, their men in column behind them ready to join the march. Behind them were the women who were coming and the wagons carrying supplies and spare weapons for the men, all waiting for their Lord to lead them off.

The Kings party slowed to walking pace as it reached the first of the Lords, whose banner was lowered in salute as the King himself passed, only to be lifted again as he did. Once the Wagons carrying the Kings supplies and Priests had passed by, that Lord joined the back of the line, proudly leading his men with wives and wagons behind. As the line passed the next Lord, he led his men and joined behind the wagons in turn. The road north soon filled with men following the banners of their Lords, who were in turn following Styr to invade the lands north of the wall. They made a spectacular sight, a formidable force, as the river of humanity snaked along the road, banners fluttering, drums sounding, horns blowing, weapons glinting in the sun and a cloud of dust rising from the road and their feet.

* * *

At the same time as Styr was leaving Dunholm, Thorfin was fuming in his cell at the castle. He knew that by now his father should be on the way north and would, in time, rescue him, but he would not have the glory of defeating these impudent whelps. It seemed none of his captors knew how to treat the son of a King, they had taunted him, laughed at his demands and promises of wealth if they should help him, it was as if they actually believed they had a chance against his father. On arrival at this place, he had been dragged into a massive stone building and thrust in front of five people who were soon joined by the scum who had captured him. The other five welcomed the ill-mannered thug as he joined, them, greeting him as the Lord of Tang. Thorfin had protested the use of the title, stating Tang was near Jorvik in Northumbria, the Northumbrian King did not recognise any current lord of that area, the last incumbent being dead. His protestations cut no ice with any of his captors, who invited the one they called Lord of Tang to state what should be done with the captives, including him as if the traitorous Northumbrian had authority and real status.

So now he sat locked in a cell, deep in the bowels of the castle, awaiting his fate, pondering just who this Lord of Tang was and why the revenge he sought could be justified. He knew revenge was a serious business, not to be taken lightly, especially against a king. That also puzzled him, they had named his father, but called him the Usurper. It was almost laughable, he knew that his father had legally taken the throne and killed the entire household of his appalling, cruel Uncle, his father's brother, it was what he had been told, why would his father lie to him. Of course, he knew his father had also been forced to kill all the Norse Lords with influence around Jorvik, they had supported the old king and were not to be trusted, they had been given the chance to swear loyalty to his father first, none had done so, so had to die. That was when the treacherous last Lord of Tang had been killed along with his son, ending the line and title. He had vague memories of the Huntrodds boy, nothing clear, they had not bothered with each other as children, he was Norse and older than Thorfin after all. While it was expected that Thorfin would be going into apprenticeship with the man who had trained his father in the special skill of his family, which had separated them from others, like Huntrodds, that had never happened,. Therein lay another puzzle for Styr's son, he had not been sent to this mentor, his father had trained him, secretly, himself. Yet the man who had brought him to this cell and had been one of the five addressing his captor as Lord of Tang, was named Salazar Slytherin, the same as the man who had trained his father, the man who shared an oath with him. Yet despite his efforts, nothing Thorfin had said to the man had changed the wizards resolve to imprison him unjustly here.

"You owe my father your oath" Thorfin had accused

Salazar smiled. "And he owes me his, young one."

"Your oath with him means your loyalty is to him, lead him here or be in breach of it." Demanded Thorfin.

Salazar laughed "It is not for the son of a man to dictate terms of an oath his father has taken or that he knows nothing of. Be silent son of the betrayer, especially of things you have insufficient knowledge of."

"You blood traitor, fulfil your oath or you will die when my father captures you."

Salazar simply laughed. "I have more than one Oath you fol, none are in conflict with another, I am in breach of none, not one of them requires I listen to an ignorant whelp with whom I hold no loyalty." He calmly told the boy, pushed him through a door, which closed, locked and he left the son of his student to stew with his own thoughts, in the cell.

* * *

Hrothweard had been back in Jorvik for what felt like months to him, but was in fact a little under three weeks, when the messenger sent by one of his priests with the Fyrd arrived and told him that Styr was north of the wall. His response was to immediately dispatch the fastest rider left in the city south, with a message to deliver at the southern boundary.

A week later his guards on the walls had spotted a large army, banners flying approaching from the south, one was sent to the Archbishop with an urgent message, in the absence of the King, the Archbishop was responsible for the capital, so had to be told immediately.

The Archbishop had set in place preparations for this eventuality and swiftly went to the Southern gate of the city with some of the Church's elite soldiers, to confirm what he hoped was the response to his message south. He looked out from the top of the gate, along the wide, well trodden, road in eager anticipation. He arrived in time to see the great army from the south had stopped and was setting up camp outside the wall.

"Quickly secure the Kings Palace for our use." He ordered some of his men, who left immediately.

Although he had known this event was likely, he had not moved against the Palace until now, he did not want any of the remaining royal household to have the opportunity of warning the King that he was moving against him. This was to be as peaceful a coup as possible, they could not risk the King returning with the Fyrd, fired up against the southern army.

It was an intimidating sight, thousands of men, the sun light glinting off polished weapons, banners fluttering in the breeze. The line of men stretched back many miles, as far as the eye could see, along the road across the almost flat land to the south. The noise of the army rumbled, as a cloud of dust rose high in the air and blew away from them, over the land to the east of the road. The approaching army stopped, with its head just outside the reach of any arrows, three men on horse back approach the gate, each carrying a leafy branch to show peaceful intent.

The gates opened as the horse men drew close allowing them to ride straight into the city, clattering to a halt just within the gate. All three were dressed to intimidate, fine helmets shone brightly, as did their chain mail and weapons, beneath cloaks that spread over the hind quarters of the horses they rode. The Horses were magnificent battle beasts, finely groomed, bridles decorated with silver, muscular young stallions, large and impressive in their own right. As soon as they were through the gate and in the yard between the houses behind, the three warriors turned the horses to face those on the wall, where Archers stood ready in case the men had ill intent despite the Branches of truce they carried.

"The King of Wessex requests Hrothweard archbishop of Jorvik attend him." One of the three called up to ramparts.

"I am Hrothweard, please inform the King I invite him and his household to the Royal palace of Northumbria where we can receive him in a manner befitting him. There he can prepare for his coronation as King of Northumbria and all England on the cathedral steps this afternoon, if that pleases him." The Archbishop called down.

The city folk who lived nearby heard the exchange and knew what it meant. The Archbishop had gifted Northumbria to Wessex, Alfred's dream was fulfilled. War or peace, turmoil was bound to follow and that meant fewer ships arriving and less trade, lean times were inevitable this year at least. Word spread through the City quicker than the time it took for the King to enter his newly acquired and secured Palace. By the time of his Coronation a dozen ships had slipped their moorings and left the city, even more were preparing to follow suit. The same king now sat on all, but the throne of Cornwall in Englaland and there was nothing anyone could do to prevent it, Northumbria had existed as the sun rose and didn't as it set in the evening.

* * *

Oblivious to the fact that he was losing his throne and capital that day, Styr was relatively pleased with their progress north of the wall. Fourteen days since they crossed the ancient boundary, and they had yet to encounter any resistance, or even the slightest indication of any at all. Their march seemed to have gone completely either completely unnoticed or ignored, just as his son's incursion had, which did not make any sense at all. Now they were here on the route set by the intelligence Thorfin had gathered, he could understand why a minor force such as that could be ignored, but it worried him that an army the size this was, was apparently regarded as not worthy of attention.

More worryingly he had heard nothing from Thorfin in the time since they had marched through the ancient gateway in the wall either, he had only his past reports to inform him what lay ahead, but not what to expect in the later days of the march, presumably close to the target. He had no idea if his son would be able reunite with him, or if he were dead or captured.

He had however scryed for the best place to await the Scot's response and knew where the battle would take place, they just had to get there with time to rest and strengthen their position gaining strategic advantage then await the Scottish Fyrd. Once it was defeated he would add these high lands to his kingdom of Northumbria and then, destroy the nest of wizards at that school. His oath with Salazar should make that easier, his one time mentor would have to join him or break the vow. Styr chuckled, even Utred couldn't kill him without raising the wrath of the powerful teacher, even in battle. He was safe invulnerable, he would survive and prevail.

What he did not know was that his scrying had been interfered with, the destination he had found had been planted in his mind while he had performed the ritual, the rune sticks had been magically directed to assure him of victory as well.

* * *

A few days after the city had been taken, the people of Jorvik gathered in the churches. A decree from the archbishop had commanded them to gather in the centres of worship where the priests would talk to them. It was to be in their churches that they learned of their new ruler's laws and demands as well as his plans to re attract trade. As the new regimes grip was tightening, the last of the ships that had remained in the City had been pushed out into the channel, the outgoing tide carrying them swiftly down river. Word that the richest plum was once again, for now, closed for trading because of the turmoil a forced change of rule created, there were now no ships left in the river and none had arrived since the coup. Messengers already been sent to Dunholm, Onripum, Hvits settlement and all the other towns of Northumbria each announcing the new requirements at every place they passed en route, the army of Wessex had now spread across the country as well, a show of strength, should anyone be tempted to rebel against the new order. Both actions intended to swiftly consolidate the new King's hold on the land he now possessed.

In a very few days, the men of Wessex, Cent, East Anglia and Mercia had spread north to the Roman Wall where they stopped to await news of Styr's fate. If he won, he and his Fyrd would be too tired to retake any territory, they were needed to tend the land that they always had anyway. While the men would be allowed to return to their lands, so long as they swore loyalty to the King, Styr, his son and chief advisers had been declared outlaws, the order given that if they were seen on Northumbrian land they were to be killed, a reward would be paid on production of their heads which would be displayed over the southern gate of Jorvik, a warning to all not to cross King, or Church.

The new regime had ordered that Northumbria would be governed by the same laws and customs that the rest of the new united kingdom was under. A tax for the church would be payable by all, whether pagan or Christian, the rate determined by valuations of productivity and property made by the Church. Pagan ritual would no longer be allowed, although the belief was not in itself outlawed, believers were to be given the chance to denounce their Gods in favour of the one true one. The throne would also be moved to the capital of Wessex where ten Northumbrian Nobles to include the Archbishop would serve on the Kings council. The Northern border would be patrolled, but no incursions made beyond it unless the people there attacked, if that happened then the armies of the newly formed England would succeed where the Roman Empire had failed.

The King himself had taken up temporary residence in what had been the Northumbrian Royal Palace, it had been emptied of all signs of its previous occupant. All of Styr's belongings had been taken, the few servants and guards that had left behind had not prevented the take over, his late wife's sister had become his lover and left to protect his interests, she had been taken to a Wessex Nunnery, where she would serve God and pay penance for her own and his sins. Eventually the palace would house the Provost, a local Lord who was loyal to the church, the King appointed to enforce his newly taken lands and gather the taxes needed to pay for the bloodless coup as well as contribute to the new nations' economy.

The ease with which the King of Wessex was taking control due to the lack of men in the land to fight back, would soon become a problem however as the fields needed tending to ensure food for next winter to feed the people of this land. Without the men to do the work then all would starve, and the recovery from the change would be slowed, eating up wealth rather than creating it for the church and the King. The Archbishop had ensured his priests, who were expendable, that had gone with the Fyrd believed they were invaluable and had ordered them to ensure men began to return as soon as they could. They would spread dissent amongst the men, who would then dessert and return home, where the Army of Wessex would ensure that even the Lords swore allegiance to the King, then were returned home, to tend the crops and provide the goods needed.

* * *

Thorfin was brought from his cell under wand and sword point before Constantine, once again. He was forced to his knee's, before the make shift throne placed on a platform in the largest tent on the grass in front of the Castle, but looked defiantly at the imposing figure in front of him.

"Glad you could join us young Northumbrian. I wanted you to know the latest news from your old home and of your fathers progress. Once you are as informed as the rest of us, then we shall begin to discuss your own future young man". Constantine boomed jovially.

`"My future is to rule Northumbria, Mercia, the Anglia's and Wessex, how I treat you when I do will depend on how quickly you realise your mistake in imprisoning your betters and release me." Thorfin growled defiantly, he did not want to mention the Fyrd, the less these people knew about that the better.

He was shocked that first response from this hirsute individual was booming laughter.

Constantine calmed himself and addressed the others present. "There I told you that he would be entertaining." He told his advisor's then turning back to the Northumbrian. "Now boy, perhaps you should listen and learn."

He nodded to a figure to one side who stepped forward, Thorfin's eyes widened in recognition of the person who now bowed to Constantine.

"My King." The figure spoke. "Jorvik has fallen, Hrothweard has chosen church over state and allowed Wessex to simply walk in through the Southern gate, he has occupied the palace and imprisoned the Usurpers' lover in a nunnery in Wessex. Alfred's dream has been fulfilled, Styr has lost his Kingdom in his absence."

"You lie traitor." Thorfin growled angrily.

The figure glanced disdainfully towards him then turned to the king. "I see the Usurpers whelp is here, has Lord Utred seen the piece of worm shit yet?"

A deep rumbling chuckle escaped Constantine "Oh yes, in fact it was Utred who brought the snivelling Earsling in, together with the Pictish Queen of course."

The spy turned to the son of Styr "Your father was trained by a master, as was I, young wizard. Sadly you were not, such a wasted opportunity, but then you have your father's example to guide you unfortunately. Perhaps if you had been here and trained properly you would not have killed so many of your own. You and that thing you call father have betrayed your own, now your fathers puppet master in the church has betrayed you in turn. Your time of privilege and comfort is over whelp, get used to it."

"You are the only traitor." Thorfin raged "You led our household guard, he trusted you, rewarded you, now you betray him."

"How can I betray someone who never had my oath, I was never his, fool. In all the years I headed his guard he never once asked for it, nor did he ever know I was a wizard, although I knew he and you were. Had the fool asked me to swear I would not have, I only give my oath to men I respect and know to be honourable to King Constantine to the Lord Gryffindor, my mentor and Utred, Lord of Tang as a Creafta. Your blood thirsty father was so arrogant he forgot Salazar's teachings, he forgot where his loyalty properly lay, joyfully killing those he should have protected, forgot who and what he was, he will die for that error."

"By your hand? You haven't the guts to kill a king" Thorfin mocked "Who ever does, Salazar will have to kill anyway"

"Don't you listen Earsling, Styr the murderer is no longer King of Northumbria, your supposedly tame Archbishop has manipulated your father masterfully, played him for the fool he is and ensured that you will never be King, by giving your country away."

Thorfin made to answer, but was stopped by Constantine.

"Enough, you forget your position here young Northumbrian, here you are a prisoner that we can do with as we will, no longer a King's son. Skorri here out ranks you, especially as, by your own admission, he managed to fool your worthless father so quickly and gain a position of power in his household." The Scots King boomed. "You are here to learn what we shall do with you, how useful you will be. Make no mistake son of the usurped usurper, you will be of use to us whether you like it or not."

Thorfin held his tongue, fearful of his position, he was on his own, and he suddenly realised none of his men were here. He had no idea where they were, he was vulnerable and his bluster was not working with these fools. Too soon, as far as he was concerned, the meeting was over, and he was being taken back to his cell, he had missed hearing their plans for him.

* * *

"Are you sure it is the only way to preserve Salazar's magic?" Utred asked, he was sat with Frayja in the founders' office with them, just having been briefed on what they had worked out about Salazar's oath and the implications if he took his rightful revenge.

"In current circumstances no, you could sacrifice your self and the next thousand generations of your descendants firstborn to reach Six years old. However we think this way is the lesser of the evils available to us." Rowena said grimly.

"Of course the best thing would be for you not to kill the usurper." Salazar offered. "Let someone else do it, then I would have to carry out vengeance against them."

Utred shot him a death look, Slytherin smiled and shrank back "Fine, I know he killed your parents so you are justified, but still it is an option". The founder concluded. "However they would have to do it of their own will, if they were forced to do it Magically then I would have to kill the one who applied the spell. So sadly we cannot force his son, for example, to do it and kill him in turn to satisfy magic in this, much as we might want to do that."

"Shame!" Muttered Utred. "That could have been as much fun as me getting him myself."

Bringing them back to the discussion, Rowena placed a hand on Utred's. "Don't forget in war anything can happen you may not even reach him before others do."

"You know Styr is likely to target Utred if he sees him on the battle field, or anywhere else though." Frayja pointed out.

"Perhaps, he may well not believe his eyes though, you do look a lot like your father did, when you are in your battle dress Utred." Godric acknowledged. "However it is also possible he will lead from behind and merely observe the battle, though admittedly if all goes well that is unlikely. No, as things stand this is the only feasible way we have that Salazar could fulfil the Oath, without taking your life if you kill Styr. Servitude for you and your descendants to him and his, we can see no other way yet and that is only possible because of Styr's actions."

"I can accept that price for us." Utred informed them. "Frayja and I know Sal, we know he would not enslave us fully, although he could. No it's us condemning unknown numbers of our descendants to the possibility that future generations of Slytherin's who might not be so generous."

"I am afraid that you may have no choice lord Utred." Salazar sighed sadly in understanding. "But, we shall keep looking for alternatives, you have my word."

A few days later, Thorfin was once again being brought out of his cell in the bowels of the castle, since that day when he had been brought into that tent and seen one of his fathers most trusted men was a spy, he had been brought out each day to work with the duty students in the grounds. They were clearing additional space to be turned over to grow crops for school. It was hard manual work as the large area of tangled weeds and thorn, gradually succumbed to their efforts. Thorfin resented being forced to slave on their soil, he was the son of a king, this was no task for someone of his status, the only good thing about it was that by getting him out of his cell, the fools gave him the chance to assess his surroundings. Looking across the grounds each day, his thoughts turned to consider routes of escape, he must get back to his father, this was clearly the target his father had ordered him to find. He had to report on the location of the school, especially if what they had said about Hrothweard betraying them to Wessex was true. He would guide the Northumbrian Fyrd here, show these fools how to respect their betters. The simplest thing would be to walk out of the gates of course, they were unguarded, but the same could not be said of the area beyond, from where the smoke of the fires from a large settlement rose, whether it was a town or a camp he did not know, but the haze created indicated a number in the thousands were there.

It was clear that the gates to the grounds around the castle were unguarded simply because they did not need to be, there were more than enough people on duty around the boundaries of the entirety of Gryffindor's lands as well as those gathered round the fires. This left the options of crossing the lake, walking round it or walking through the forest, none of which were particularly inviting. Of course there were the three vessels, moored on the lake side, one far too big for anyone to sail on their own, the others could probably be managed, but although he could have taken the opportunity to learn from any number of captains in Jorvik, he had never actually sailed or controlled a boat himself, no, that route would not do.

Perhaps the forest, it would offer most cover, he could hide there easily, but also it held the most danger with all the creatures that were in it. The forest stretched away as far as he could see, he had also seen some viscous looking creatures emerging and returning from it, he did not like his chances of making it through the trees unseen or safely. Having no idea how far it was to the other side, there was no way he wanted to be in there, after dark, when undoubtedly Sceadugengan prowled the maze of tree's seeking prey. He shuddered as he remembered his encounter with what he guessed were the phantoms when he had lost most of his men a few weeks ago. He rejected the thought as too dangerous, he believed he was unlikely to succeed. One of the students working alongside, elbowed him, he immediately turned his attention back to his task, concentrating on clearing the nettles and brambles from the area, while continuing to observe his surroundings.

After several minutes he turned his mind to consider the walk to the mountains alongside the lake, which were unguarded. This caused him to reject the idea, dismissing it unless an opportunity to run came up unexpectedly. The fact that they needn't utilise resources on guarding that route suggested that those who knew the area believed it to be to well protected by natural means to need them. It may be impassable in there opinion, but all he needed to do was lie low where they couldn't find him, until dark when he could sneak past them and find his way over easier land. He would have no weapons, or wand, unless he could steal them, his own would have to be abandoned here with whoever held them, until he could liberate them when he returned with his father and took the castle.

Despite the difficulties each possible escape route offered, Thorfin was still arrogant enough to believe he could get past his captors at his first opportunity. He convinced himself that as the son of a King, no one would stand in his way should he command it, they would recognise his natural superiority and let him pass. He would easily return to his father and guide the Fyrd here, where these people would be defeated or surrender to Northumbrian rule, then he would show them the power the son of a King could wield as he took revenge on them.

* * *

Styr was slowly becoming aware that the deeper he got into this wild rugged land, the rougher it became, the more dissatisfaction was spreading amongst the Fyrd. The time they were taking to find any opposition was costly and disconcerting, he was steadily losing men. Three of his lords had failed to attend him that morning, as they should have in his tent, while his advisors briefed them of the route for the day. Despite losing almost two thousand men overnight, the latest to follow their Lord in abandoning their King's Fyrd, they continued to make their way deeper into this land, reaching another large valley with a lake at it's base. They marched along its shores, half his army on either side to meet at the Northern end where a river flowed into the lake and there was a shallow section where they could cross. They had set up camp at the side of the river and discovered that yet another Lord had taken his men and headed South, back to Northumbria. It was not until the next morning that one of his attendants spoke of the rumours spreading through the men, rumours that Northumbria was gone. Hearing that the men were talking of the loss of Jorvik and therefore his throne to Wessex, he dismissed the idea as ridiculous and summoned the Lords to attend him at council, to dispel these stories. A task he hoped would work, if they kept losing men at this rate, they would struggle to defeat even the anarchic Scots, he was convinced the rumours were simply due to boredom among the men, nothing more.

* * *

Skorri Bleac had not only been the one to break the news of Northumbrians fall to Constantine, but just over a week after he had told the King, when the young Lord and his Lady returned to the Castle from speaking with families about their Magical child in Cornwall and Wales, he was also the one who had to tell Utred. Word of events in Northumbria had yet to reach the areas they had been in, so they had heard nothing as they travelled through the two countries. Understandably the Norse noble was disappointed. "So it ends." He said sadly, as he worked out all the implications for his future. "With Wessex in control I shall never regain Tang or Thwing. I am Lord of no lands."

"No my Lord, even Wessex cannot remove the title of Tang, even if they have the lands." Assured Skorri.

"The estates are gone, I shall not recover them whilst Wessex holds Jorvik, they are lost to me and my family." Utred snapped angrily. "All that is left is the title and that I shall not hold fully until my parents death is avenged. Where is Styr?"

"A week or so South of the valley still, Tigelwotta discovered some men of Wessex spreading the story amongst them. He's lost several thousand men it seems, their Lords have led them to return home to salvage what they can of their lands and wealth." Skorri replied, knowing his friends anger was not aimed at him, but at the situation that denied him what was rightfully his.

In reality Utred had known regaining his lands, especially Tang, was going to be almost impossible and would cost him more than they were worth, in gold and men. He had long ago realised taking them by force, the most likely way of regaining them, would not be possible without taking Jorvik. That, he knew, he would not be able to do. Even so, the hope that one day the ruler of Northumbria could be convinced to give them back had always been there in the back of his mind. Now though, with Wessex in control, that hope was gone, the lands would be given to another in all probability, one loyal to the new King who would know nothing about the theft by Styr, and would not be the slightest bit interested to be told it. Unless he could prove it with deeds, which the church wrote up and had never been issued by them, only Styr's brother, then he would have no chance to regain them. The door had closed firmly on him ever regaining those lands, but that didn't mean he would not hold others elsewhere. Utred grinned. "They should be with the Sceadugengan soon then. We must ensure Styr survives them, he is mine."

"Don't worry we have arranged for him to sleep in the village that night, he will be safe, the other Lords shall be warned against camping there, but I expect many will." Skorri sighed.

Utred nodded then turned and left, he needed to work his anger through, convert it in order to regain his control. It so he could fight without it's blinding effect. Godric found him later sparing with Erik in the Muggle duelling ring, stepping in after a few minutes to enable the young Lord to utilise his magic, the matches drawing a crowd.

Thorfin's opportunity came sooner than he thought the camp was distracted as the one called Utred spared first with sword then with magic. He grabbed his chance, though not with any skill, planning or cunning beyond his observations since he was brought out to work each day. With the desperation of an opportunist, he ran for it, simply dumped his tools and ran towards the lake.

The first to notice was a young student who yelled and set off to intercept the larger fleeing young man. Thorfin used his bulk to tackle the youngster as their paths crossed, grabbing the student's wand as they rolled together on the ground, he was back on his feet swiftly before the boy recovered. He pointed the wand, point-blank, at the young Wizard's chest. "Avada Kadavra." He bellowed emotionlessly, just as his father had taught him, then resumed his flight, heading along the lake side.

The yell drew the attention of those watching the duel, Toki was first to recover after the shock of seeing a student his own age killed in cold blood, he ran and crouched next to the body watching the fleeing figure. His wand also tracked the figure as others joined him, wands out ready to give chase, Utred stood next to the young member of his friends family.

"Stop them." Toki whispered determinedly, as the students and some staff members moved to give chase.

"Hold!" Utred ordered loudly.

Instantly all the students and staff stopped, but looked with concern to the Lord, the look on Toki's face told them not to get in the way. Their target was only a couple of hundred yards away, only a few seconds had passed since he had killed. Toki's face of grim determination, eyes never leaving the fleeing Northumbrian wizard.

"All yours Toki." He nodded.

Knowing his Lord was allowing him to deal with the situation, but would provide back up if he needed it, Toki's lips moved, a spell left his wand, speeding towards the figure. The caster sprang into life instantly, running towards the target, keeping low to the ground, almost keeping pace with the light of the spell. He paused, a second spell followed the first, then he moved swiftly again, the watchers open-mouthed at the speed of the small wizards actions. Three more times Toki cast anew and moved before the first reached its target, who seemed oblivious that anyone else might try to stop him.

The fleeing figure froze mid stride as the first spell hit, the second impacted before he had time to fall, and he was bound with ropes before the third spun him to face the back way he had come. The fourth slowly drew him towards them and the fifth and final spell caused the stolen wand to fly through the air to Toki who deftly caught it. Toki then guided the bound murderer towards Utred, ensuring the immobile son of an ex King bounced from as many boulders, tree's as possible, before he dumped him unceremoniously at Utred's feet.

From Thorfin dropping the tools, to being dumped at Utred's feet had taken only o few minutes, but all four founders had arrived next to the body of the student in that time. Helga checked and confirmed he was in fact dead, the bound culprit was dragged over to them. Seeing that Thorfin was still conscious Salazar grabbed the son of his first student by the throat and glared nose to nose with him. "You killed one of mine you cowardly scum, you are going to suffer." He smiled evilly, an unmistakable scent rose. "It seems the prince is proving his worth, you will do more than shit yourself when I am done with you boy."

No one disagreed with him, the vow he had taken to his students and the school meant he had to ensure justifiable revenge took place, but few had seen him so angry as he was now. As Salazar and Utred literally dragged Thorfin back up to the castle, both with such expressions of thunder that cleared the way before them and even cause Constantine scuttled out of the way at the sight. Rowena gasped and grabbed Godric's arm tightly.

"Rowena, I know I am good-looking, but you only had to ask me, my dear." He grinned.

"Behave Godric." The witch flirted briefly. "No don't you realise what this means for Utred?"

Godric looked blankly for a moment then realisation dawned on him "The oath, it's still binding because it wasn't Styr, but the price for not protecting the usurper is less because of his son's actions today. Still serious of course, but at least it would not condemn their entire family to slavery until no descendants are left." Rowena told him insistently.

"Only if Salazar and Utred spare the Earslings life." Godric observed wryly.

Helga had been listening as had Frayja with Toki. "Come on" The lady of Tang called urgently, as she turned with the student and both ran towards the castle, the founders following in their wake.

For the first time in his life Thorfin was not just scared, but petrified. His father's mentor and a man who had apparently sworn vengeance on his family for some reason, had him helpless. They clearly were not in the mood to talk, he was bound by magic and ropes, he had been bounced, hard from every wall as they had physically dragged him through the castle back to the cell.

Neither founder nor Creafta felt any pleasure as they carelessly ricocheted the bound figure through Hogwarts, just a grim determination to avenge the death of the student, although they probably would not admit that if anyone asked. They reached the dungeon and removed the bindings, standing between Thorfin and the door to the stairs up to where they had come from.

"Master Slytherin, we share a desire for vengeance on the piece of worm shit, you for the death of your apprentice, me for Tang. I suggest we share the duty and both fulfil that part of our oaths." Utred snarled, his eyes never leaving the petrified figure before them.

"Agreed Lord Utred, though I believe we should make his death a slow and painful one." Salazar grinned maliciously.

There wands moved swiftly and the pain for Thorfin began. The two first used cutting curses to put hundreds of small, but deep lacerations over his body. They stopped the bleeding, then healed the wounds, then began to cut him again. They repeated the process over and over until they were interrupted.

Frayja stood in front of Utred, Helga before Sal preventing them torturing Thorfin further.

Toki stood in front of the heavily bleeding Northumbrian who was in a crumpled heap on the floor, weeping helplessly in his own blood and filth. The young student faced the pair, two of the men he most admired. "Lord Utred, Master Slytherin as captor of this filth, I tell you to stop and listen." He demanded.

"Why Toki? You know we must give justice for the murder of Sal's student." Utred glared.

Showing why he was in Godric's house Toki glared right back at the warrior towering over him. His name was Sigmund Beins he was my friend and I caught his filthy murderer which means I have a say in what happens to the Earsling. You both need to listen to the ladies Frayja and Hufflepuff before you do any more."

Sensing an end to his pain Thorfin looked up at his saviour. "I am grateful." He whimpered.

Toki spun round "I am not doing this for you, you worthless piece of snail slime." He growled then kicked Thorfin, viscously, between the leg's.

The son of Styr doubled up in pain again, Utred and Salazar burst out laughing.

"Very well young Ollivander, we shall listen, then if you wish you may join us administering justice on the scum." Salazar smiled. "You, without doubt, earned that right beside the lake today."

Helga and Frayja looked at each other and rolled their eyes, the younger acquiesce to the older lady.

"If you boy's have quite finished?" Helga grinned. "I think you both need to hear what we have to tell you. Lock the son of Styr up we can deal with him later, no need for him to hear what we have to say to you."

Once again Thorfin found himself locked up and alone in a windowless cell, working out what had gone wrong with his bid to free himself from these blood traitors that had allowed him to be recaptured. They had at least stopped him bleeding, though they had not healed the wounds or cleaned him, so he contemplated his actions in his own filth.

* * *

Whilst Thorfin's day had been bad, his fathers was about to get worse, though he did not know it, yet. He and his aides had taken up camp in an empty village, just North of a lake surrounded by marsh land at the head of a valley. He ordered the army to set up camp in the areas leading up to and beside this lake, where there was ample flat ground for a linear camp the length of the valley. The village appeared to have been abandoned relatively recently, in the last few weeks, months perhaps, but not much more. The buildings were still in good condition, roofs intact, though empty of anything that could be carried, perfect for the King and his aides to spend the night in. A newly placed tree trunk outside the main hall, carved with Runes warned none to stay in the valley outside the village overnight, it was the first on to the fire, it's warning ignored. With the sun already low above the western horizon, they would barely have the camp ready before it set fully. No one, whether Christian or pagan was willing to travel at night, all feared the Sceadugengan, so would want to safely rest in tent or hut protected by a bright burning fire as soon as they could, the light from them should also protect the guards assigned to patrol the perimeters.

Styr, his advisers with their guard elite and collective families quickly settled in the village. Once again there were fewer Lords reporting to him that evening, than there had been when they had set out soon after dawn that morning. This was now an expected part of an evenings observations, bets were being made on who would be missing at the council, who had abandoned the Fyrd and returned to Northumbria. Styr had vowed to punish the cowardly Lords severely on his return following victory over the small Scottish mob they expected to face at some point, they had yet to meet any resistance. His threats, it seemed, had little effect on those who had abandoned the cause.

Those Lords remaining were gathered in the largest hall in the village, complete with a dozen priests that the archbishop had sent with them, for their spiritual welfare. Hrothweard had sent no soldiers, it had been noted, just a few of those known as Dunholm's more troublesome clergy, those who privately questioned the churches motives. It was further observed that they were troublesome to the Archbishop though not to Dunholm itself, but he had taken care to flatter them in order that they had some loyalty to him, though only while they believed that would benefit them. The priests had just completed the prayers over the food that was always served when the council met, assuring their deity of their gratitude that they had made it this far. They had prayed for protection for the night and the success of the brave Northumbrians over the poor ungodly savages who inhabited these lands, North of the wall. Styr grinned, he paid the priests well to maintain such prayers publicly, he may not believe in their god, but most of his lords did and it was good to be seen to support the church, at least until he achieved his ambitions.

They had not long begun their meal when the first scream from near the lake was heard, it suddenly seemed to be cut off. The resulting silence was deafening, all at the kings table were frozen with fear and anticipation, some with pieces of food held halfway up to their mouths. Another blood-curdling scream rent the darkening sky, again it suddenly stopped. Then there were two screams, then more by the time the Kings household had stirred themselves from their seats, it was becoming a cacophony by the time they made it to the edge of the village. It seemed that the entire camp alongside the lake was screaming in horror as Dark spectral figures flew and swooped into it. It was unseasonably cold, frost had appeared on the ground, the lake was freezing over and the black shapes appeared to float at speed towards the tents nearest the lake, from where the screams emanated and men could be seen in the firelight running in panic as the dark figures attacked with abandon.

* * *

Salazar and Utred were unhappy, some would say it was with some justification that they were united in annoyance. Both understood, even agreed with the reasoning for sparring Thorfin, but were not happy about being denied the opportunity to make him suffer as much as they wanted him to, at least not yet, or in the way they desired.

The ladies had realised that because Thorfin was Styr's son, the death of Sigmund, an apprentice of Salazar, by his hand, there was an effect on the magic of the oath between the founder and ex King. In practical terms it reduced the seriousness of the vengeance it would be necessary to take in order that it be fulfilled without penalty to Salazar if Styr was killed. If Thorfin was killed for his crime, by any other than the victim's family, then the terms of the oath would be restored to full effect.

Salazar and Utred both nodded realising this could make it possible for both to fulfil their separate oaths and any consequences whilst still serious, would be more acceptable to them both.

"How would it be if we simply torture him a bit." Salazar pouted hopefully, like a small child who's favourite toy had been taken from him.

Rowena shook her head, smiling wryly. "Better than torturing us, but nothing close to lethal spells or methods you two, don't you dare make things worse again." She pointed at Utred and Salazar.

Salazar, Toki and Utred looked at each other gleefully.

Godric spoke up, "Of course we could leave him to stew for a while, let his guards talk carelessly outside, so he can hear about our supposed plans for him."

"You know Godric." Salazar said thoughtfully. "With cunning like that, if you had been younger, you would have fitted in my house perfectly."

The trio quickly departed, to start the process of enabling Thorfin to torture himself, whilst the ladies laughed and Godric spluttered indignantly.

* * *

It had been a horrific, sleepless night. The sounds of men in the valley, who were clearly being tortured had kept those around Styr in the village awake and terrified messengers had been sent and horns blown to try to get the Fyrd moving to safety all had, had no effect. Anyone who left the village to go to the men was attacked the moment they left the boundary of the village.

The dark shadowy horrors were so numerous they seemed to block out the stars, their presence seemed to freeze the air and raise every dark feeling amongst even those in apparent relative safety in the village where the creatures seemed unable to reach. The breaking of dawn saw the ragged black monsters flee back to the darkness of the marshes surrounding the lake and survivors from the back of the Fyrd and in the village began to assess the costs of the night.

By mid-morning large columns of black smoke rose from where the village had once been, it's timbers used to create a monstrous series of pyres, each for large numbers of the nights victims. Not one of the victims had actually been killed by the creatures, but putting them to the sword had been a mercy, even Styr was shaken to the core by the empty, unresponsive condition they had been left in. Once valued, alert men, some amongst his best fighters, now registered absolutely nothing, they had become mere shells, empty husks. Even so, putting so many otherwise healthy, blameless men to death in such a way was a vile, unpleasant task which no one relished as they put friends and neighbours, even family out of their misery.

With the fires lit, to dispose of the bodies, the remains of the Northumbrian Fyrd departed the area as swiftly as it could, not knowing that their advance party had done the same shortly after leaving their winter quarters. Styr in deep thought at the head, he was still confident of victory, but the lack of word from Thorfin was worrying, especially alongside the loss of so many men in one night. Between those deserting and now the loss's of the night, the Northumbrian Fyrd had lost a third of its strength. Styr had to act to prevent further loss's before the battle, he needed to raise the moral of the men, which had been particularly hard hit. He had to put the fire back in the bellies of the men, they needed a victory. That might be easier said than done after this and the continued desertions, he would need to inspire the Lords first and then begin to do the same for the men. Swivelling in his saddle on the horse he was riding, he looked back over the stream of men behind him, he saw two things. One the cloud of smoke from the pyres still rose thickly, then he saw two more of his Lords leading their men away from the back of the lines, heading back the way they had come.

The small group of Scots watching the progress of the Northumbrians had camped a safe distance from the lake of the Sceadugengan, but knew and heard the horror the invaders experienced, it was harrowing to hear. They were not unsympathetic, although powerless to help, it was useless to attempt to intervene. They watched as the village was hastily dismantled and the pyres built, witnessed the grim task of slaughter and stacking of the bodies on the wood, quickly followed by smoke rising and the distinctive smell cremation brought.

They watched the still large army march on, North. It had lost every man who had camped next to the Loch, but those further away in the valley had been lucky and of course those in the village were untouched. The sky above the pyres was blackened by smoke as the rain began to fall. The watchers then moved down and amongst the fires, ensuring they would stay alight, the dead deserved to be honoured, they might be the enemy in life, but all were the same in death. They knew the battle was drawing near and soon they may well be joining the men below. In battle there was, but one certainty, men would die on both sides, even the best warriors died eventually, it was the great leveller, the one thing all shared.

* * *

 **Late 20th Century.**

It was essentially still the job he had done for years, but it was no longer the same. Vernon Dursley was, reluctantly, settling in to his new life, which included the enforced changes at Grunnings as a whole. He no longer had money to spare, his salary was not supplemented any more. In terms of take home cash, his salary was, in fact, similar to what it had been before, but it now just covered his bills and food. He was trapped in this job, on the wage he had, by the debts he owed the company, the repayments of which had reduced his take home pay significantly. His actual responsibilities remained pretty much the same, he had lost all his perks and self awarded bonuses, he no longer held the position of a director of the firm, he was now simply the sales manager. His post did not warrant a personal secretary, it had been decided, so he had to use whoever might be available from the pool of typists the company now had, or do it himself, which was not going to happen. Grunnings drills was still as busy as ever, but was now run as part of the larger group it had always been part of. The owner of which had, through his appointed agents, removed the independence that Grunnings had enjoyed from the rest of the corporation previously.

The other directors had, over the last months since the audit, left the company or been transferred, one by one to pastures new. Some had sold off many of their assets to pay off their debts to the firm, found other positions of equal or higher stature and gone to make fresh starts elsewhere, while others had simply taken opportunities for a fresh start away from Grunnings, but still within the group. Their posts within Grunnings were removed to head office or given to the new management team brought in to run the company, most of whom seemed to be quite short. Vernon was the last of those who had Directors from his team left The red head who had interviewed him that fateful day when his world had collapsed about him, was a regular consultant in the building, always with the new managers, who despite being short in stature and extremely gruff, were very business like in conduct. Vernon had discovered he could not intimidate the new managers, they had in fact scared him somewhat by their coolness as he had made the attempt, one had even snarled at him and described him as a mere human. He wondered if he could reason with the red head, but never got the chance.

Vernon was no longer trusted to handle cash, either expended or brought in by his department, he also had to deal directly with all customers, not just the large prestigious ones, in fact the only ones he now seemed to deal with on his own, were the smaller ones. He had been office bound since the changes, no longer was he allowed onto the factory floor to chivvy on production, nor was he allowed to wander freely round the building. Now he was an administrator only, even the sales staff were given instructions by others, he simply pushed paper. He was left alone to do his work, each morning his in-tray was filled, by the end of the day it was emptied into the out tray, which was emptied after he left. He no longer had any sense of satisfaction in his work, nor the resources he needed to leave.

His home life had become similarly dull, especially since Marge had gone home. He could not afford to go out socially any more, he had even had to resign from his club. He had no choice, but to sit watching the television alone every evening. The once immaculate house was no longer as clean or tidy, he had not enjoyed learning how the appliances worked, he mostly ate take away as he could not figure out the cooker, the once full freezer was now empty, he had turned it off to save the cost of the electricity. The fridge contained bread and milk, but little else and the washing machine and dishwasher were complete mysteries to him, he had never needed to learn how to use them. He had tried the former once, Marge had told him to read the labels of the garments, but he could not decipher them, nor could he understand the dials on the machine, or even find out where you put the washing powder. Like the takeaways, his visits to the laundrette were a drain on his income, but at least it meant he had somewhere to go once a week. The downside of that was of course, like his neighbours, no one there talked to him.

He had once been a proud man, looked up to in the community he had believed, but now he knew that had been an illusion. Ever since that day, when his wife had left, then the one where he had found Mr. Weasley sat at his desk at work, no one in the neighbourhood bothered with him at all, although he suspected he was probably the main topic of gossip amongst them. This had resulted in his already short temper getting worse, he had already been barred from the two closest laundrettes because of it, though of course he could not see why. Everyone he had once known and considered friends, now left him alone to stew. On top of all that, apart from the divorce papers, he had heard nothing of Petunia and Dudley, note a single word. Every time the phone rang he hoped it would be one of them come back to their senses, but it wasn't. He could not write to them, he had no address to send it to, and they never wrote to him. He deduced this was because they did not wish to face him, but could not explain why they had behaved as they had, or why they had left him. There was only one explanation for any of this to have happened, at least as far as Vernon was concerned, the boy. It had to be Potter's fault, the worthless freak had somehow bewitched his wife and son. That had to be it, they had been perfectly happy before he had been dumped on them, he had caused them nothing, but trouble to them. They had been looking forward to a Potter free life, before they had been forced to go into hiding, that had only been necessary because of the runt too. He had been like a slow rot, causing decay in his family until it had fallen apart. First his son had defied him, then Petunia had gone to the freaks wedding with Dudley, that had been when his family had split. The boy had to have bewitched them both, he wouldn't have dared try it on him, if he could only break the hold he had on them somehow, his life would be back as it should be, but his hands were tied, the courts had ruled he was not allowed near them.

He was forbidden from approaching his wife, son, nephew or anyone they might be with if he saw them in the street. If he did then he could be imprisoned, he had been warned. It was wrong, surely no court in the land would enforce such an order, not once he could prove this was all simply because of the actions of a worthless, ungrateful, boy who believed he was badly treated as he grew up with them. Vernon could not believe any court would side with the boy in such a case, they had taken him in, fed and clothed him from the goodness of their hearts, he had provided for the boy, it was only right he should work for his keep. He had even had to tell Marge not to go near them if she saw them in the street or it could result in problems for her and him. She visited him for the weekend, once a month, though Marge being Marge her time with him was not exactly comforting. She scolded him for his falling standards of personal care, berated him for not picking himself up and getting on with his life, no, she was not the comforting type, still she was his sister, and she and the dogs were company at least. His sister had, had a lawyer friend of hers go over the papers, both from the company and the divorce, in an attempt to find a way to challenge them. So far, however, all this friend had discovered was that Grunnings was now part of a large multinational owned by one, very wealthy, person. Other than that, the papers were, it seemed, water tight. This angered Vernon even more, this owner was so wealthy they would not miss amounts he had taken, had they paid him more he wouldn't have needed the perks, had he not had to take in the boy, he wouldn't have needed the perks to supplement his wage. It was again, therefore, the boy's fault, it had to be, it always was, after all. Although he was not religious, he only attended church when he had to in the past for such things as Christmas or Weddings, these days Vernon prayed for the day the owner would come to Grunnings, he would speak with him, he had to be a reasonable man who could see talent in people, surely. To have got so far the owner had to be a man pretty much like himself, he would reason with him, have the debts wiped out and a pay rise, when he got the chance to speak with this man all would, once again, be well. Of that he was sure, he was, after all, Vernon Dursley and despite appearances, he could still be a man to be reckoned with.

* * *

During the fortnight Ron and Hermione were on their honeymoon, George and Dudley were hard at work putting into action the plans they had been discussing for weeks. The business was still expanding, they had opened a branch in France, close to Beauxbatons School, managed by a local, and they were now looking at opening others in York and Godrics Hollow. The mail order catalogues were being requested from across Europe and items like the decoy detonators were being ordered by the security forces of many countries. All of this together meant the factory needed to expand, as did each department in it. They needed more space inside, a feat achieved in an hour thanks to Georges wand, much to Dudley's amazement. The number of staff also grew in number, several of the existing staff receiving promotions as a result. By the time the newly-weds returned, the talk in Hogsmeade was all about the industry the Weasley's had brought and the wealth it had generated for the village, which was not as fickle as it was from tourists. George had ensured the company had a policy of not only employing as many locals as possible, but also sourcing as many of the materials needed for the products from suppliers in the village if they possibly could too. This was bringing wealth into the village and everyone who lived in it benefited from the factory's presence, the staff also spending more locally as well. As the weather improved, so the visitors to the village returned as well, each day their numbers grew adding to the new vitality the village was enjoying.

Dudley and Maria had looked after the cottage whilst Ron and Hermione were away. The couple had returned to a garden in full bloom, rewarding their work in it since they had moved in, especially earlier in the spring when they had grown and planted bedding plants under the watchful eye of Neville and Hermione's mother. They had often returned home to find Mrs. Granger pottering in it while Molly had been to see Ron at the factory, but now they could reap the reward and spend their evenings doing the most important task in any Garden, giving it a good dose of looking at.

On their return to work, Hermione had, of course, resumed her researches, she had not done any whilst away, at least none that wasn't on the information boards or guide books for the places they visited. Tigelwotta's papers were proving very informative, casting light over the events of a thousand years ago. She was slowly learning the true story of Utred and the earliest days of the castle, even Slytherin didn't seem to be as bad as was thought by most historians. She toyed with the idea of talking Harry into publishing a book of them to enable the truth to be known, she put the thought to the back of her mind until after she had found what she needed to. Outside these papers she had found little other reference to Styr anywhere, only one mention, in an obscure book which noted his presence for the re interment of St Cuthbert at Dunholm. Hrothweard she did find, on the roles of Archbishops of York, though again she could not find much more recorded about him, this surprised her. Although she knew that records from the time were rare, she had expected to find more on people who had held such important positions, just as she could individuals of similar stature, like Alfred, but beyond the papers from Tigelwotta's chest, she could find little elsewhere about them. The legend of Utred was, at least close to that which was recorded in the book in the Black library, though as is so often the case, it had changed and been embellished compared to the story the records that Harry's ancestor had left told. Hermione accepted this, as often stories were changed in the retelling before they were committed to writing, it was clear that this had happened in this case too. Slowly, but surely she was deciphering the runes Tigelwotta had written in, discovering more and more information. She was triple checking her translations, which took time, but she knew, it would only be after all this was done that she would know what must be done.

* * *

The end of term came very quickly, exams had been sat, the staff had marked the end of year ones, while the Ministry examiners had taken those papers away with them to be adjudicated. The students knew that when they left for home, Harry and Ginny would finish their time as Head and Matron of Gryffindor House, they planned to give them good send off.

The closing feast saw Gryffindor once again announced as the winners of the house cup and receive the Quidditch cup. Earlier in the day the staff had won the match with the students, but not by much. Grawp had been in the crowd cheering the teams along as he often did, he had grown to love the game and had rarely missed a match all year. After the students had returned to their respective common rooms, the staff enjoyed their own end of term celebration.

Petunia and Horace were still companions, both had decided to spend the Summer at Hogwarts, though both would be visiting Harry and Ginny, she had a wedding to help organise with Maria's parents as well, a task she found she was relishing. Neither Dudley nor Petunia missed life in Surrey at all, both enjoying their new lives. Neville was of course going to spend part of the Summer with his Gran at Longbottom Manor, although he had a research project he was going to start as well so would be at school for most of the summer.

Dudley had arrived for the feast early in the day, he had sat his own exams with the other students of the subjects as they had. He spent the day at the castle with Maria, who had showed him round her favourite parts of the school. They were planning a couple of weeks away visiting some of Maria's relatives and touring some of the Wizarding and Muggle sites around the country in his car, ending with a trip to Ireland for the Quidditch world cup final after their wedding. They would be leaving the next day in his car to start their tour, which Maria knew would shock some of her relatives, but she loved riding in it and had told Dudley that he might have to teach her to drive it, if she enjoyed the trip. She was looking forward to showing him some of her favourite places and exploring some of his, as well as discovering new things for themselves. Today though, she was showing Dudley round the castle, a place he had visited often since last September, but not had the chance to explore, so she was taking him round places she had discovered while a student.

The couple walked arm in arm through the corridors, the portraits watching their passage as they entered a corridor with only a few portraits, the largest of which was a large lady.

"The portrait of the fat lady." Maria announced. "Thought to be one of the earliest portraits in the castle, probably created purely with Magic rather than brush and paint then enchanted, as such she is probably an accurate representation of whoever she is. I suspect she guards something, probably Gryffindor tower, in which case I would guess she was someone special to the founder. She is a real character, likes a tipple or two on occasion, but although she is interesting it's actually this portrait I find most fascinating." She pointed to the wall beside them.

Dudley looked at the picture she indicated, it would be easy to miss in that position, set back in a dark, shallow alcove. The picture was of a bearded face, unusually for the portraits in the school, this one was just the head and shoulders of the man it was of. They could see little of his clothes, his hair was long and bushy though his beard was neatly trimmed. His red tunic opened beneath the neck revealing a leather thong threaded through a ring.

"Wow, he looks very Viking." Dudley exclaimed, recalling pictures from the history books used at Smeltings.

The portrait turned to him. "I never went Viking, I was warrior, never an invader."

"My apologies, it is simply the common name for people of that period." Dudley admitted.

The portrait frowned. "That was our name for those who went out invading, raping and pillaging. Once we controlled an area, if it was worth it, we settled there. I am Norse, though born in Englaland." He spotted Maria. "Ah you have returned, I am glad, I missed our chats, my descendant did not discover me whilst she was here, even when acting head of my Mentors House."

Maria nodded. "Well you would only tell me she was here and had a destiny to full fill, not who or what headmaster."

"Headmaster?" Dudley asked. "I thought that was Minerva's job."

"It is!" The portrait replied. "I was the first who was not a founder to have the privilege of leading this school, though I knew them all well. Not that any of our portraits hang in the office that the Headmistress uses now. You look familiar to me young man, you are not a wizard, though I do sense a small magical core in you. Enough to perhaps see more than you should, but not strong enough to fuel much. If only my spirit were here, he would know straight away, I had a real talent for detecting cores in life, I am a mere portrait though, unable to accurately sense them, merely if they are present or not."

"My name is Dudley Dursley sir, though I prefer my mothers maiden name Evans these days, I wish to put the name Dursley behind me. I'm a Muggle, been in this world less than a year, live in Hogsmeade now."

The portrait suddenly looked surprised. "Odin, Thor, Merlin and Loki! Rowena was right, a Durslieg with a core has returned to Hogsmeade. I knew your ancestors young man, arrogant Muggles who hated us. They left the village, took up with our enemies, gained land that they arrogantly named after themselves in the South of England, quite a loudmouthed thug he was."

"Sounds like dad." Dudley ruefully said. "He's the same, didn't know anything about the rest though."

"The time is truly here, Maria tell my ancestor, Hermione Granger you two must go with her and her husband together with the chosen one and his wife when she does it."

"You mean Hermione Weasley, she married Ron." Maria assured him.

"Then the six of you must go to the grave of the ones joined throughout life, my descendant knows where she is drawn to. She must learn the ritual Godric discovered, only then can we all be free to pass on and our magical linage be fully restored through her." The portrait swung open revealing a compartment of stone. "Take what I have kept safe, that which Godric placed here, I have guarded it for a Millennia and half that time I have been watched by the founders mother, once she was moved from inside the chambers she guards. Take it to my heir, it will, with Tigelwotta's notes, tell her all."

Maria reached in and took the role of parchment. "We shall!" Maria replied.

"Young Dursley, break the pattern, restore your family to a position with meaning."

"I'll do my best." Dudley replied.

The couple resumed their tour of the school, before going to the Great Hall ready for the feast, which began shortly after they had reached their seats.

Harry and Ginny arrived in their office after the feast and staff celebration, they could hear the noise from the common room next door.

"Shall we?" Ginny asked.

Harry grinned, looking at the clock he saw it was almost midnight. "I suppose we ought to." He replied.

They opened the connecting door and went in.

They were greeted by a gigantic banner hung along the balcony. "Good luck Professor's Potter." It read.

In moments their presence was noticed and the students settled down, a bottle of Butterbeer in one of each students hands, but before the couple could speak the members of the house had given them three cheers.

"Thank you all, you have worked hard all year, and kept up our records in both house cup and Quidditch. It has been an honour to be your heads of house, our old house, we are going to miss you all." Harry said.

Ginny agreed then said "Now did he get you all butter beer again this year?"

Harry tried to look shocked "My dear how could you think that I would do that again?"

"Because you did." She laughed pointing to the students, who all held up a bottle, laughing, then drank a toast to them both, draining the bottles.

Harry grinned. "We both wish you all well for the future, those returning next year, ensure the first years know our record, make our successor proud. Those, like us, going out into the wide world, we wish you well. Right then, it's midnight, you all know the deal, bed time."

Each student shook their hand as they lined up to pass them, then up the stairs to bed.

* * *

Next morning the couple waved goodbye to their students for the last time as they left for the train, then went to Minerva's office for a meeting with her and Kingsley.

Entering the office they found the older couple poring over some plans, they looked up as they entered. "Ah good Harry, Ginny, glad you could make it. Come and look at this, tell me what you think." Kingsley smiled.

Laid on the table were plans of a building including dormitories, offices, training suites, in fact a rather impressive looking facility.

"Looks interesting." Harry said. "What is it."

"Your next project Harry." Kingsley grinned.

Harry looked puzzled, he knew he was starting work with the DMLE, but had yet to be told his post. Minerva smiled. "Thanks to you Harry, there has been a large increase in applicants to the department."

Kingsley took over the explanation. "So much so, we need a new training facility, the one in the ministry is too small, but will be used to increase the DMLE to accommodate the new teams. These are our plans to create the new facility, it must be ready by September."

"It looks very impressive Kingsley." Ginny said. " So what's Harry's role?"

"I need Harry to fill in the details, design the way it will work and help induct new staff and then the students in September." Kingsley grinned. "With the retirement of the old head of training, who you met, we are appointing you his successor my friend."

"What?" Harry exclaimed loudly.

Kingsley laughed. "Harry you impressed him and his team last year with your teaching methods, he suggested you to succeed him and his staff agreed, well insisted I appoint you in fact. You are, if you want it, head of DMLE training department, answerable to me and the cabinet, working alongside the head of department of course. You will oversee all training needs in the department, not just initial training, but specialist training for each section from Aurors to your father in laws old department and everything between. Not only that, but also any in job training we need as well as any cross over training from other departments. You will have access to resources from all departments, including Mysteries and if you think anything is missing then let us know. This is a new start for the department, making it fit for the new world we are trying to build after Voldemort, we can think of no one better to do this than you."

"Are you sure? I mean I have no experience in the field."

Minerva snorted. "Professor you have more experience actually fighting dark wizards than anyone else alive today, I would think. You are a good teacher as your two years here demonstrate and you inspire others to learn for themselves as was shown by your work with the D.A. You have earned this Harry, by your own efforts. The staff you have inherited, not to mention any new ones you appoint, will more than fill in the gaps due to your youth, besides experience in the field as you call it is a two-edged sword. Yes it can help with confidence in situations, but it can also stop make people set in their ways too."

Harry looked at the plans again thought fully. "You realise the armoury is too far from the practice rooms don't you. Swap it and that office round and you will have that about right."

Kingsley looked at him and grinned. "Thank you, Harry it will be great to have you on board."

"I want to run it my way Kingsley, no recruits until this is built and the training staff know it well enough. Where is it going to be anyway, it looks like part of a larger complex."

Minerva looked sheepish. "Well actually it's in the wing at the back of the school. It's unused, has been for years since the fall in the number of children born during the first war and intervening years. It's easily separated from the school on a day to day basis, however I have one favour to ask."

"Oh yes?" Harry replied expecting the catch.

"Occasional lectures in defence from your staff, that's all Harry, perhaps yourself too."

Harry rolled his eyes then grinned. "You really don't want to lose me do you Minerva. How about this, we will run a defence club once a week for all years and provide support for the new DADA teacher. It would help our trainee's out too, they are going to have to learn how to deal with lots of different people, they would meet all kinds here."

Minerva quickly agreed, but Kingsley had more to add. "I want you to help cover in the school when you can, Harry. Your staff have expertise in all fields between them, some of the existing trainees have as well which you might find useful. I would advise that you may want to tap into that, other than that the training school will be yours to run."

Harry nodded "Will we have access to the grounds for fitness sessions?"

"Yes, Harry, the kitchens will provide food for you all, though served in your own dining area, and we shall share an expanded hospital wing, Poppy has agreed to run it with Archie, and we shall have some staff members from St Mungos when needed. In fact, we shall be introducing basic healing on our curriculum for all years."

"Good idea, we shall need a similar course for our trainees too Kingsley. Thanks for all that Minerva, perhaps we shall have a joint feast or two in the great hall during each year too." He laughed.

Minerva smiled. " I hope so too and although I will have no jurisdiction Harry, I hope we shall continue to work well together?"

"Heads lunch every Saturday?" Harry asked.

"I think that sounds ideal." Minerva nodded.

Harry smiled then turned to the Minister. "Kingsley I think we had better look at the rooms and check them all, then compare it all with your plans, see if there are other areas of improvement."

The Minister nodded, he had the feeling that with the two heads meeting so often, he would be kept on his toes. He and Harry picked up the plans and made their way out of the office and towards the disused part of the castle.

Ginny laughed as Harry sent her images, through their link, of his tour of the long ignored wing. She had followed his progress on the Marauders map and noted rooms they could identify as having been secretly used by students for any number of surreptitious reasons. Whilst the wing had not been required by the school for some time, it had been patrolled every night, though it seemed that the rooms had not been checked often. Kingsley was relieved when their inspection was complete, Minerva and Ginny met them as they emerged along the ground floor corridor of the wing. Kingsley was leading, behind him, Harry quickly waved his hand over himself and instantly all the dirt and dust on him was gone, leaving him looking pristine. The women burst out laughing, Kingsley was covered in filth.

He grunted "It will be one hell of a task clearing those rooms, I bet we both look a sight." He looked round at a spotless Harry, who was doing his best to look innocent. Kingsley looked fed up "Bloody hell Harry, how can you get through that lot and come out so clean?"

"Son of a marauder, Godson of a Marauder and Godfather to the son of a Marauder." Harry grinned.

Ginny and Minerva laughed harder until the headmistress calmed enough to say. "Which means you have placed an heir of some of the best pranksters I have ever seen, in charge of training our law enforcement for the foreseeable future my dear." She grinned. "Now go take a shower."

Harry and Ginny spent the rest of the day finishing off the paperwork and ensuring all was ready for their successor as head of Gryffindor house, before packing their things and returning home that evening.

* * *

The next morning, after following their morning routine, they had a meeting with the trustee's of the twin's inheritance at the Ministry, followed by a visit from Bill at home, he was finally reaching the end of the paper trails from both closets. Some of the contents of the latter resulted in Harry, as only heir of the founders, having to give the ministry permission for the training school he would be head of, to be placed at his castle. He was also able to offer premises for Wheezes in Godric's Hollow thanks to one of the deeds of ownership he now had. Following these meetings the couple headed to Hogsmeade, to see Dudley, the Trustees had asked him to convey an offer the twins had asked them to make.

It was his cousins day off and for a change it coincided with Maria's, so both were there when they arrived. Dudley welcomed them into the flat. "Come on in you two, Mum and Horace are here too."

After general greetings and refreshments were passed out Harry looked at his cousin. "Dudley, are you settled in our world? Certain this is where you want to be?" He asked, knowing the answer.

"Of course, you know it's odd, but I feel like I belong here far more than I ever did in Little Whinging. Why do you ask, is there a problem?" Dudley asked, a worried look on his face.

"No, no actually quite the reverse, you may be able to solve a problem." Harry replied. "Both you and Maria in fact."

The couple looked at each other before Maria replied "If we can, we shall of course Harry, how can we help?"

"Well this morning we had a meeting of the twin's trustee's. Delilah and Tarquin asked us to speak to you, they would like you to live in their cottage here in the village. You have helped keep an eye on it since the last tenants left, so you know it, and they feel that you two will need somewhere bigger than this flat, especially once you are married, they have such a place that's empty so why not." Harry told them. "So what do you think?"

"Are they sure?" Dudley asked.

"Yep, they said they thought of you as family and wanted to help. They did say the only rent they would accept is an occasional trip in your car though." Harry smiled. "This once the trustees thought that was reasonable, so essentially the house is yours, if you want it."

"Yes please." Dudley and Maria happily said together.

The rest of the afternoon was spent with the woman discussing furniture and the men adding the occasional "Yes dear!" At appropriate moments before they managed to escape to the three Broomsticks where they met Ron and Hermione and shared the news.

Whilst Horace bought another round for them all Hermione leant over to them.

"Thanks to something that Dudley and Maria found, I have the full ceremony now, it's time." She said. "I need you and Ginny to come and you Dudley with Maria of course, as the first Dursley back in the village in a thousand years."

"When?" Dudley asked.

"This weekend." Ron replied. "I'll book the hotel."

"No need." Said Harry. "We can stay at the bungalow, it's yet to be let. It needs an airing."

"I think we can do it in a day." Hermione protested. "There's no need for us to stay anywhere, but we maybe should arrive in Whitby at the Bungalow, it is private after all."

"All right, but the offer is still there." Harry said quickly. "Whitby this Saturday."

* * *

Authors Notes:

As always many thanks to those of you who read and reviewed the last chapter. I look forward to reading any reviews you might leave.

Until next time.

Tgfoy

* * *

Historical notes:

This is not how Alfred's dream of a united England was fulfilled, it simply fits with this story which is a work of fiction. Alfred's dream did come to fruition, just not in the way depicted in this story.

The gate on the road from the south in York is Micklegate Bar and has been the royal entrance to the city for centuries, even today the reigning monarch must enter the city through this bar and by no other route. Like the city of London the Monarch must ask permission of the Rt Hon. Lord Mayor to enter and touch the City's sword of state. York and the city of London are the only two places where this ceremonial is required. Micklegate Bar was also the place traitors heads were placed as a warning to others. It was also the way out of the city for many condemned prisoners on the way to Knavesmire (now the race course) for execution. You may have heard of Dick Turpin, a highwayman who was executed there on the three-legged mare scaffold, which allowed for multiple hangings at once, at Tyburn on the boundary of Knavesmire and the road south.


	20. Destiny's Call

Disclaimer: As always, anything you recognise from the novels by J.K. Rowling belongs to her and I make no claim on it, anything else however is from my weird imagination.

* * *

 **Chapter 20.**

 **Destiny's Call.**

Late 20th Century:

With the term over, the school gates were once again open for the public to wander through the grounds to the memorial for the second summer in a row. With the visitors arrived the workmen to work on the new DMLE training facility; keeping the two separate was proing to be a challenge. Many of the visitors this year wanted to visit the castle, to relive their memories, or to show its wonders to their children. When they discovered there was to be work on the wing, that also generated interest. The school was not prepared for this demand, nor, indeed were the grounds; the fact was that more people wandered the grounds rather than just walking to the memorial and back as had been the custom previously. Hagrid had his hands full preventing people from walking into the forbidden forest, and so no one was available to supervise access to the castle. By the next day, however, barriers had been placed guiding the visitors in areas they were allowed and preventing public access to both the forest and the castle itself, leaving the half giant free to carry out his work. Minerva decided she would try to arrange to employ some people to act as guides as soon as she could, controlling the visitors a little more than they had expected to have to, but that would take time, for now the barriers would have to suffice.

* * *

The three young couples walked alongside the harbour, blending in with the numerous holiday makers; the smell of the sea mixing with the aroma of fish and chips, as well as the sickly-sweet scent of doughnuts, waffles and candy floss. The gulls cawed as they wheeled in the blue sky above them, searching for the easy pickings discarded by the tourists. It was a gloriously sunny day, that had drawn the crowds to the seaside town, the beaches were packed as was the road they walked along, the shops and businesses were doing a roaring trade.

Although the six young people were in the town for a reason, they could not fulfil3 it until almost sunset, partly due to the number of people in the town. As they had descended from the west cliff, they had seen the ribbon of people on the steps that led from old town up to the graveyard and Abbey. It was also the first visit here for one of them, Dudley had never been to the town, although he had heard of it and was intrigued by it, so they were making the most of the remainder of the day as well. They had already stopped at the statue of Captain cook and the whale bones, before descending to walk the road that led along the Harbour to the bridge, they had called into a couple of the shops, avoiding the crowds at a fork in the path they discovered a shop full of shells, fossils and gem stones. They continued on up the road, passing the bridge to explore further up the Harbour, going as far as the railway station, before turning back.

They reached the white gates which blocked the road whilst the swing-bridge opened to allow some tall masted yacht passage to the sea; the crowds swarmed over when the gates opened, preventing the swift passage of pedestrians and the vehicles that had also been waiting for the bridge to swing back again. Emerging on the other side, they took another short detour to circle a short street of shops, discovering a museum dedicated to Captain cook, they decided not to visit it this time, Hermione was growing more and more anxious to get to their destination and it was a little close to closing time to allow them a decent look round. They did however continue to the end of the short, quaint street before they quickly headed back and entered the very crowded old town. Dudley and Maria especially looking round at the small shops, so the group took time to look in both Muggle and magical ones that they passed on their way towards their destination. One Wizarding shop was vacant, which Ron and Dudley took particular interest in, the Wheezes empire was always looking for further opportunities.

Crossing the market square beneath the clock, they were accosted by one of the last years' Gryffindor first year students and his family, who were on holiday in the town. They spoke for a few minutes, Hermione getting uncharacteristically over-eager and keen to carry on. Harry and Ginny grinned, as Ron tried to calm her. They continued through the crowd, Hermione's stride and speed increasing as they closed on their goal, her normally-polite demeanour stretching thin as the crowd slowed her.

"Hermione, please calm down love." Ron hissed. "People are starting to notice, we can't do what's needed yet anyway. "

"We've got to hurry, I can feel it pulling me." She urged impatiently.

"We can't, Hermione, you know we must wait." Harry insisted, trying to calm her. "It's too crowded yet, we have to wait, but only about an hour or so, we might as well enjoy ourselves in the meantime."

"Come on, Hermione, let's eat first; so you have the strength to do this properly, we can go over it all again." Ginny took her friend's arm and led them into a pub close to the bottom of the steps up to the graveyard and Abbey, overlooking the harbour on one side, the street from the steps on the other.

* * *

At the Burrow, the twins were enjoying their first full summer with their new family. Charlie was home for a visit, although they had met him at the wedding, they had not had chance to get to know the dragon keeper then, so at first the twins were somewhat in awe of him, but he soon put them at their ease. That was not to say that the two didn't think he was amazing; far from it, in fact they had been heard to say it was great having another big brother who was so cool. Charlie loved having another little brother and sister; he helped them get their homework done, told them stories about dragons, and took them flying. He of course knew all the secret places in and around The Burrow, places he gladly showed them, and shared stories of Fred and George's antics. The twins soon loved him, and were glad they had got over the slight fear they had of the dragon-tamer that they had felt at first.

He took them down to the village, where they visited Fred's grave; Tarquin and Delilah described him as "The brother they never knew." Now, and sat next to the grave while Charlie told them about him, then told Fred about them. Then the twins told Fred about the pranks they had played, how the joke shop was expanding and how exciting it was to ride in Dudley's car. He then took them into the village, where he showed them some of his favourite places and treated them to a bag of Muggle sweets from the newsagents, where the assistant, the owners daughter, flirted with him as he chatted with her.

On the way home from the village, while they walked along the road Charlie told them all about the dragons he looked after, including Norbert who had been hatched at Hogwarts. They arrived, to find Bill, Fleur and Victoire had come to visit. Instantly Delilah went into doting adoptive-Aunt-mode while Tarquin rolled his eyes at her. Still, he ensured the youngster was well supplied with biscuits when he thought no-one looking.

Molly and Arthur watched as their two older sons and Fleur interacted with the twins and the twins did with Victoire, happy to see how quickly Delilah and Tarquin had integrated into the family. The two still had nightmares about what their Aunt had done to them, but they were getting less and less frequent. They were happy to see the twins settling into the Weasley routine, a mix of order and chaos, so well, though they were sure George had a lot to do with that. All being well they were going to Hogsmeade the next day as a family to visit Ron and Hermione, Molly found herself hoping their trip to Whitby was going well and that the matter that had preyed so much on her daughter in laws mind for so long, was concluded successfully.

* * *

The sun was lowering in the sky when the number of people using the steps was reducing enough to be noticeable from the pub where they sat watching the passers-by. They had just enjoyed a good meal at a table overlooking the street, they had of course chosen Fish and Chips to eat, as Hermione observed they couldn't come to the seaside and not have them. Now that they could see the flow of people slowing, Harry paid the bill, and they left the pub. It was still a warm evening as Hermione led them onto the street in the old town, then up the first flight of steps. There were still a few tourists lingering on the benches and steps leading up to the grave yard, mostly couples enjoying an evening romantic stroll, but some family groups too. One or two of them recognised Harry or one of the others and their eyes widened in surprise that they were there, though thankfully this was the only sign of recognition any of them showed, none of them recognised any who showed the signs of recognition, so it was not anyone that they knew.

They continued to act as tourists, even stopping at the highest of the landings to take in the view across the harbour, as if catching their breath as they had seen others do. Once the group reached the top of the steps, they all genuinely paused to catch their breath though.

"Much easier to Apparate!" Ron complained breathlessly.

"Or even use the car?" Dudley offered just as out of breath. "I'm glad I lost all that weight, I would never have made that climb a year ago." He added a grin on his face.

"Well it did seem further than last time we climbed them, either they are steeper or Gravity is getting Heavier." Hermione joked.

The others laughed weakly; Hermione used the distraction to place a rune stone in a crack in the wall close to the top step; lightly tapping it with her wand to secure and activate it.

Behind them, people who had almost made it up the steps, or who had just done so, turned and went back down them hurriedly, as if they had suddenly remembered they needed to be somewhere else entirely. Harry and Ginny walked to the other gate to the church yard and repeated the process of concealing and activating a rune stone at that gate, while Maria and Dudley walked round the church, where Maria did the same again, before they all regrouped where Hermione and Ron waited next to a tall carved stone cross. The church yard slowly cleared and the building emptied, the last person out of the church itself turning and locking the door before leaving. Within a few minutes the six, who each wore a pendant charmed to counter the ward that they had just erected over the area, were the only ones left on the cliff top. They could see people passing the other end of the path to reach the Abbey, but none seemed to notice the way into, or past, the churchyard down to the old town. Hermione eagerly led the way along the path through the weather-worn gravestones, passing the locked door and the transept that jutted out from the nave. They rounded the corner of the building, and reached the grave of her ancestors; there was no sign of the ghosts of the couple however.

Hermione nodded, and Harry, with a wave of his hand, reinforced the wards the stone had placed, ensuring that whatever happened next would not be seen as what it was by anyone who observed it. Ginny wandlessly checked that they were the only people left in the church and yard, then nodded, all was clear to begin.

Hermione reached into her beaded bag and retrieved a parchment scroll; unrolling it she took a deep breath and called out the summons written on it. "Utred Huntrodds, Lord of Tang, friend of Gryffindor and ancestor, I call your spirit here and those of your descendants who have passed from this life, to come to this place. I am the one that was foretold, your awaited descendant, the firstborn since the curse ended. I am a witch of your blood, Slytherin's oath is fulfilled, the consequence's time run out. Those required to free you all are present, it is time for you to gather, here at the grave of the joined."

Her wand tip glowed, the warm air began to chill slowly; an incredible silence fell, not even the sounds of the sea or the cawing of the gulls overhead could be heard as the gentle breeze that cooled the air stilled. The churchyard was at complete peace, everything still. For several minutes the six looked round, waiting, watching, for anything, but nothing more was happening. Hermione began to fear she had made a mistake, she re read and re read the parchment to herself quickly, unable to see what she might have done wrong, she wondered if she should repeat it or not.

"Look!" Dudley exclaimed, pointing over the Abbey.

A cigar shaped, translucent, glow sped towards them, followed by another and another. They all landed in front of the church.

"Ghosts!" Breathed Maria.

"My ancestors!" Hermione smiled, relieved.

Soon the sky was flooded with spirits arriving from all directions, macabrely some even began emerging from the ground, although between the graves rather than from them. More and more arrived, swooping in over the sea, or town or abbey, all gathering around the only six living who could see them, leaving space around them. Surprisingly quickly, the church yard was filling with tens of thousands of spirits, and still more came, the glow filling the sky, the Ghosts on the ground shifting about to allow more in. After about ten minutes, the numbers of spirits arriving began to slow, the blue of the sky showing once more between them, they settled and shifted to surround the church and fill the churchyard. The murmur of many hushed voices chattering in expectation filled the summer air whilst they waited. Gradually, over the next fifteen minutes, the arrivals of the dead to this idyllic place slowed then stopped completely, all those summoned appeared to have arrived. The surrounding skies, over abbey, town and sea were empty once again, except for the white birds and the occasional wispy cloud in the deepening blue as the sun continued to set. Not even the gulls appeared to have noticed the sea of spirits arriving; or now standing in the church yard. The density of spirits resembled a large, glowing, sea fret, hanging over and between the gravestones, obscuring all but the tallest, which could be seen like islands in a white sea. Two figures melted through the church wall next to Hermione, to stand with her smiling. The six were looking around in amazement, none of them had seen so many ghosts in one place; it was doubtful if anyone ever had.

The couple bowed to Hermione. "It is good to see you again, we knew you were the one when we last met." Mr. Huntrodds smiled. "Before you is your family, forty generations of your ancestors, the past of your line. You, my dear, are the future of the Huntrodds, the start of a new era for our family."

Mrs. Huntrodds nodded. "You may not share our name, my dear, but you are the first of his blood since him, who has the talent and can perform magic, the first in a thousand years. The one destined to break the curse, first since Utred to have the power to do that, and the first to know of the curse during your own lifetime since his wives. At last, you are ready child; the time has come for your destiny to be fulfilled."

She looked at her husband, and they turned to face the spirits who quietened down. The couple called out to them. "The time of freedom has come, you who have answered the summons to our grave, we are the linked."

A murmur of excitement ran between the Ghosts, silenced by Mr. Huntrodds raising his hand. "Like you, we have waited for the kin that could free us. She found us prematurely two summers ago, but we knew then that this day was close, we just needed a little more patience. Utred knows; we told him she had been here with some of those required, but that she was yet to discover her destiny then. She is now ready, and here with those required; it is time to complete the circle begun a thousand years ago when the usurper betrayed his mentor and his people. Ten centuries since the Usurper received the righteous vengeance of our ancestor and faced his wrath, the curse that resulted is finally done. The price for that revenge has now been paid, and he, unlike the usurper, can now be free with us. Our family have been to Tang and seen the father, the parchment that was hidden has been found, and Tigelwotta's book was discovered, even the Durslieg, now resident in Godric's village is here, all is in place, it is time. The living called us, now we must call Lord Utred; call him my family, and we shall be free at last."

As one, the spirits rose a few inches from the floor and began to move to their left, slowly gathering momentum, a haunting chant began as the cloud of spirits swirled faster and faster. The maelstrom of spirits created a wind around the living, which focused on a spot in front of them as the vortex of souls sped yet faster and tightened around them. The wind created a thin tornado next to the church, which grew in height and intensity, rattling the windows of the building, they could see dust falling inside, the narrow funnel took on a momentum of its own, and the spirits began to slow. All else was undisturbed, not even the litter left by the tourists was disturbed as the vortex of air spun faster on the spot. The Ghosts finally became still again, those in front of the six silently watching the tall column before them. The living and the linked, stood serenely watching as the tight convolution of wind began to emit a rumbling sound as its rotation continued to intensify. A small light appeared at the base of the twister, looking as if caused by friction with the path at the spot it touched, it grew in size and brilliance, until it filled the maelstrom. It flashed brighter, and the dark shape of a tall man appeared in the eye of the cyclone. The thundering noise changed in pitch, growing higher and higher; the living soon needing to shield their ears from the now intense whining noise, then suddenly, the noise stopped, and the light exploded soundlessly, expanding quickly to fill the grave yard, and beyond, startling muggles walking from the Abbey. They could be seen looking round briefly, some shrugging, before they all continued on their way, many boarding the open top bus that would take them back to the Harbour once it was full.

The silence that followed was deafening.

The light faded back down to its source, and they could see once more; the six young people saw the vortex was gone; in its place stood a man.

"Utred!" Maria whispered.

The man smiled. "So, it was you who found my portrait in the halls of the castle, the one who received the scroll it hid? I am glad, you visited when you did, we were getting a little concerned that we might need to take more direct action to get young Durslieg to explore when I saw him in the castle. Well it is done!" The figure said and turned to look over the six living among them, not waiting for her to reply.

The ghosts murmuring began again, as they took in the figure before them. He was the tallest amongst them, and appeared almost solid. Turning from the six, he gazed over the gathering, nodding in satisfaction. He had a fearsome appearance; long hair spilled from under the richly decorated helmet on his head, to fall over his shoulders and down his back as a mane. He had a full, neatly trimmed beard that covered his neck, but did not fall lower, it was bound into a silver bead as were the long ends of his moustache. A red and gold cloak was fastened over his shoulders, attached to the front of his blue tunic with round gold penannular brooches; his shield slung on his back, the ornately patterned, tablet-woven strap crossing from his shoulder diagonally over his chest. His tunic was short sleeved, revealing a padded coat, and the edge of a chain mail hauberk beneath; his muscular arms were bare except for several gold bands above the elbow, and a broad one on each wrist. A silver Thor's hammer, next to another badge in the same metal, hung on a cord resting on his chest; two amber beads either side of the pendants were flanked by ornately decorated blue glass beads.

He lifted the helmet off his head and hung it next to his sword, on the leather belt at his waist. Bending, he tightened the leather thongs that fastened his calf-length boots over woollen socks; the thongs extending to criss-cross over his cream woollen trousers to just below his knee. Task done, he straightened up, throwing his head back to clear his hair from his face; his hand rested on the pommel of the long sword at his side, which revealed that his cloak was lined with grey fur. This was an impressive, powerful man who, even to the modern eye, was plainly a wealthy, Norse warrior of his time, even now, an imposing figure.

His hair danced as if caught in a breeze, though there was none, his gaze friendly as it resumed taking in the scene; his eyes finally fell back on the six, and he broke into a wide grin. His voice was deep, booming and powerful; though not unfriendly as it reverberated round the grave yard, a slightly ethereal quality to it. It felt as though the whole planet could hear his voice when he spoke, and all would instantly pay attention to his every word regardless of the importance of what they were doing. "Hermione, you have come at last, I have to say it was most enjoyable watching what you and your friends got up to whenever I visited the castle." He laughed. "You have brought your husband; the Chosen one, and his chosen one as well. Of course, we can't forget the finders of my portrait either; as was foretold, you are all here to support my descendant. My dear, as Maria pointed out, I am Lord Utred of Tang, the last magical person in your family before your birth. In you my legacy, magically denied to my other descendants, is restored; which means at last we can rest."

Hermione looked up at him, somehow her hair mirroring his. "Utred, Lord of Tang, friend of Gryffindor." She addressed him formally, in the manner her researches had said was proper. "Honoured ancestor, source of my family who are gathered, your wait is over. Your enemies' plot to destroy you failed, thanks to the four founders. The curse Slytherin was forced to place, then worked to mitigate, has ended. Soon I shall speak the words he found to free you and your descendants, that Tigelwotta recorded on the founders' instructions. Your portrait guarded the parchment well, you shall be with your wives again in the afterlife. Your father awaits you there now, his watch ended when I returned to Tang, the Creaftas and founders await you too. Our family will at last be free to move on, your story told again; your deeds honoured; your name restored, and revered, as befits the warrior that you were." She bowed.

"Hermione, honoured hero of your era, friend of the chosen one; your greeting honours your ancestry." Utred spoke kindly, his voice carrying over the gathered throng. "You fought the darkness that misrepresented Salazar, who was my friend. Alongside your friend, who is as good as a brother, and your red haired husband, you have proven your bravery and intellect in battle. A warrior certainly, a shield maiden, with bravery beyond measure, not just in war, but also in life, though it has to be said, some might call it foolhardiness to marry a descendant of the Wesele twins, that I knew." He joked.

Hermione smiled.

Grinning mischievously the warrior continued. "His own brothers, twins themselves, followed their example and path to lead the way in pranking; speaking of which, there is someone missing." Utred paused then bellowed. "Peeves, I demand your presence." The sound seeming to echo through the planet itself.

The six looked to each other puzzled as with a pop the poltergeist appeared.

Peeves looked about himself, then spotted Utred. "Daddy!" He yelled, and zoomed over to Utred, and began to spin round his head.

The six living looked gob-smacked at Peeves' behaviour; Hermione stunned at the thought she could be related to the mischievous spirit.

"Stop, Peeves! Enough! It is time."

The Poltergeist stopped, floating in mid air right in front of the warrior. "Already?" Peeves began to cry.

"Yes, my children, do you want to come with us or stay?" The warrior asked.

"Shall you visit us like our other parents do?" The tears flooding down his face.

"I shall, though I shall have ascended to join them, you could come with us."

"No father, much as we want to, our hearts live in the castle you helped build, I was made by the magic you gave it to keep the spirit of the Creaftas alive; mother Hogwarts has been quieter since you took the shield, but she still needs me despite the red haired ones and Marauders efforts. We are part of the castle, as much as we are part of all of you. We shall continue to do what we were created for, and look after the family that will come to the school after today."

"Very well children, we shall visit soon my brave ones, now dry your eyes, it is almost time."

"Yes daddy." The poltergeist sniffed, wiped his nose on his sleeve loudly, hugged Utred, then popped away again.

Utred looked at the six. "You didn't know?" They shook their heads, and Utred continued. "Peeves was created when the spirits of the dead children of all my closest friends, the Creaftas, who never made it beyond childhood came together in the school at the same time that the curse was applied. Hogwarts had decided that she did not want to leave the spirits of my dead children alone for the thousand years, so merged them together, then drew those of all of us, so they had friends with them in the one entity. So using the magic of all in the castle, Hogwarts bonded them together and with her own, forming themselves into Peeves, who grew over time. They gave themselves a kind of life, a life they had never had the chance to have. I always promised them the chance to separate again, and come with us on this day, as individual spirits; they cannot follow us as they are; it seems they want to stay together though, and will continue their campaign to keep the fun in the school."

There was silence for a moment, while Harry, Ginny, Maria, Ron and Hermione took in what they had been told, it was clear now why no one was able to remove Peeves from the school. Now they knew, none of them wanted the mischievous spirit to be banished either.

Utred turned again to Hermione. "We have a task to perform for us all; let us continue, I must give my inheritance to the living before you utter the words dictated. Hermione, to you my dear, I leave my purse, it contains the means to get the inheritance of my family in the world of wizards, inaccessible for a thousand years, along with my books and artefacts, which are in care of the Goblins."

Utred untied the purse from his belt and gave it to Hermione, who accepted it with a bow.

"This contains all the Goblins would not hold, you will know what you need to show them so that they will explain what you must do to claim what is yours and all your entitlements. You are now the source of our family in this new age, what was lost is now yours." He told her as the purse glowed in her grasp.

"Thank you, founder of my family." She replied, placing it carefully in her own bag.

Utred nodded in acknowledgement, then turned to look at Ginny. "Ginny Potter, though Wesele by blood, I should have known you, and your brother, from your red hair if nothing else, a feature you share with your ancestors it is a shade unique to your line. I see your bonded Essence with your Husband, remarkable. I have not seen so deep a bond for centuries. So, my brave, loyal Gryffindor, just like your ancestors; my friends, and like them your fiery hair serves as a warning of the heat of your anger, and vicious streak in battle."

Surprised he had addressed her, Ginny bowed automatically, before nervously answering him. "Yes Lord Utred of Tang, friend of Gryffindor."

"Step forward, my lady." Utred invited. "Descendants of my friends have no need to fear me; do not worry. You are the chosen of Tigelwotta's heir, you who waited whilst he completed his task; you who defeated oppression, and defended others in the school I helped to create. You faced the dark ones head-on, and withstood the horrors they inflicted, you anchored your warrior, and brought him from Erebus' clutches; showed him the way from the darkness, when it had healed and strengthened him enough to deal with the past, and face the future anew. The one who never lost faith in him; you are his Seax sword, the unseen strength used to undermine an enemy, as you did at the School. It is therefore fitting that I give you my own Seax sword, may it serve you in times of need, and serve as warning to those who would belittle you." He unbuckled the blade, still in its stout leather sheath, and handed it to her.

Blushing at his words, Ginny accepted the Seax. "Thank you, Lord Utred, I shall treasure it always."

Utred nodded, then called out. "Chosen one, descendant of Tigelwotta, step forward, stand by your wife."

Harry moved next to Ginny and bowed; but before he could speak, Utred held up his hand. "Lord Potter, it is we who bow to you, and in kind your friends; for what you have done. You who honour my family, and supported my descendant, becoming each others first true friends. You of all alive today need not pay the respects to me, you have proved more than worthy, you faced death like no other could; without your soul-mate, yet your last thought was for her as you took the death curse. It was you who faced the most horrific of Salazar's descendants, he who mutilated that founders legacy, to suit his own quest for power. My lord, sole descendant of my mentor, and of Tigelwotta; having brought the mutilated part of Salazar's line to an end, you and your wife have united the founders lines through blood and conquest for the first time. It falls to you to restore their castle, rebuild its protection, replace his shield in his students tower. You, his last heir, and latest head of his house, shall enable the founders legacy to the school to be restored; fitting it should be you to replace what was lost, when I took the shield. That said, I must also restore something to his family, bequeathed on his death bed. I was with Godric as he died at the castle, both as his successor in the school, and his first student; he gave me his battle-axe, I now give it to you. In my time it symbolised the protector of the school and his settlements; a position he charged me with. Along with the axe, it came to be my badge, and soon I became protector of all the founders lands. With the restoration of the wards comes the restoration of the post to the living, you are protector of all the founders lands and legacy. When I took the shield, it forced change as I intended, defence was reintroduced, along with charms, transfiguration, Runes and potions, to replace the drinking and wenching encouraged at the time. Lord Potter Black, I name you protector of Hogwarts, and of the founders; heir of Gryffindor and Tigelwotta, I give you the symbol of protection, the axe of your ancestor and my friend, may you carry it with pride."

He removed an enormous double bladed axe that had been concealed by the shield on his back, and offered the handle to Harry who accepted it; a series of pulses of light flew from it to head in different directions the moment his hands touched it. Taking the weapon fully, Harry looked up to thank Utred, only to find the Norse warrior had fallen to one knee before him, his head bowed. Looking around, every spirit fell to their knee before him; he returned his attention to Utred. "Lord Utred, my thanks." He said. "I accept the task, and the honour you have given me, but for Merlin's sake get up; if I do not bow to you, you certainly do not bow to me. I pledge I shall do my best, and will treasure the axe and return the shield as soon as we find it and are able to take it to Hogwarts."

Rising, Utred smiled. "That is all I ask, my Lord."

The ghosts also rose, as Utred turned to Ron. "Husband of my descendant, step forward, stand with your family."

Stepping forward quickly, slightly flustered. "Yes Sir!" He spluttered, then flushed as he corrected himself. "Oh my apologies, I mean Lord Utred of Tang."

Utred waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry young Weasley, I am aware of the modern honorific; I respect it, just as you respect me with its use."

Reassured after his mistake, Ron visibly relaxed and Utred, smiling, continued.

"You have heard me mention my friendship with your ancestors, you and they share a skill with strategy like no other individuals I have encountered. A skill you have used to benefit your friends, just as they did in our time. Your skill helped defeat the dark ones; your loyalty and love for my heir, as she sought the cause of the pull she felt from my magic calling her here, does you great credit, young Wesele. To you, I give a warriors most important tool, his most treasured possession; his most faithful and reliable companion. To you, young Wesele, I give my sword, the twin of my mentor Gryffindor's own, given me when I first beat him in a duel. Use it well against the darkness, protect your family and friends, make it sing with joy once more, as you slay the enemy."

Undoing the baldric which held the sword to his belt, he held it handgrip first to the wide-eyed Ron. He grasped the handle as Utred released it. "My thanks Lord Utred, friend of Gryffindor, I shall use it wisely and only against the dark." Ron said in awe.

"I know you will, chosen of my heir." Utred nodded, as Ron attached the sword to his own belt.

Utred looked at the four fondly. "You four have already proven yourselves worthy of the founders legacy, and true students of my mentor. These gifts are yours because you have shown yourselves worthy of them. There are two more with you; the heir of Durslieg, and his intended, both please step forward."

Surprise evident on both their faces, Maria and Dudley stepped hand in hand to stand next to the others and bowed.

Utred's smile widened. "Maria, my portrait in the school has told me much about your conversations, you too are descended from a family sworn to me and my friends. One served my father as well as I, I saw him returned to his family when my own was killed, but you are descended from his nephew, who was among the first to be sorted by the hat after it was enchanted, he was a man of honour, loyalty, integrity and bravery, I look forward to reuniting with them and others in the next life. I have no doubt you are the same as he, you have accomplished much, and shown the bravery to take Dudley; knowing the prejudice of his upbringing, and knowing the deep-rooted views he once blindly held, you have acted with honour and loyalty, helping to guide him awakening his integrity with your own. Dudley, you are of a line that has held those prejudices since my time, you have broken that cycle, challenged those beliefs, and grown above them despite your fathers threats and teachings. I give you each an arm ring of gold, given by a Lord as a reward for Loyalty I service, may the wealth it represents help restore your family, rebuild it in the spirit of understanding ready to stand against prejudice." He removed the two largest of his arm bands, and presented one to each of them, acknowledging their thanks.

With the six now standing together again, Utred turned to face the ghosts of his descendants, who had patiently watched proceedings. "My family!" He whispered, pride evident in his voice, then he raised his voice and announced. "The six living who are with us have answered the call to set us free; I honour them." Turning back to face them, Utred knelt once more, head bowed, every spirit present followed his example.

After a moment they all rose; two of the spirits separating from the others and approached arm in arm.

"Gran, Gramps!" Hermione exclaimed happily, her maternal grandparents had died not long before she had received her Hogwarts letter, she had always been close to them.

The two spirits smiled to her, pleased to see their once isolated and lonely granddaughter amongst such close friends.

"Our little 'Mione." Her grandmother greeted. "All grown and married, we are so proud of you, my dear."

Her grandfather agreed. "Didn't I always tell you, you were special, Princess, and that one day you would have friends who were smart enough to realise it?"

"Yes, Gramps." Hermione agreed, blushing happily. "You always could cheer me up, both of you."

"This must be your young man, not bad my dear, he is quite the looker isn't he. A pleasure to meet you; call me Gran, anyone who our 'Mione deems good enough to marry earns that right." Her grandmother announced with a glint in her eye. "My husband will, if he runs true to form, now try to be gruff and frightening, but you must call him Gramps. His bark is far worse than his bite, always was, even when he had his own teeth."

Ron chuckled and the ghost of Hermione's grandfather looked disappointed. "She spoils all my fun." He winked. "Still, good to meet you young man."

"Yes it is, but I'm afraid it's time dear." The spirit of Hermione's grandmother said, rolling her eyes at her husband.

Her husband grew serious. "Sadly it is, Hermione, we have a duty to perform. It would seem that we were the last two to die whilst the curse was in force, because of you our children will not pass until afterwards now, thankfully. Utred met each of his descendants, including us and told each one of us everything about the curse when we died, it was only then that we learnt our families legacy. We are not unique in being two from different branches to marry, there are a few of us, but through me you are of direct descent. As such it falls to us to ask you, on behalf of your ancestors, to perform the spell, to enable us to pass into the next place. We shall watch over you of course, and will wait the day when you join us, though that is, we hope, a long time away. Don't mourn us again, be happy for us, we shall be at peace."

By now tears were rolling down Hermione's cheeks. "I know you will be, that doesn't mean I shan't still miss you."

"We know dear, but you have your friends to help you these days, darling." Her grandmother reassured her. "We have been gone a few years now 'Mione, and we are all looking forward to being able to rest."

Hermione nodded and smiled weakly. "I'm ready." She said.

"Good, and thank you my dear." Her grandmother smiled.

Hermione drew her wand, Harry, Ginny, Ron and Maria drew their own and placed their other hand on one of Hermione's shoulders. Raising his hand, Utred stopped her from casting the spell.

"After I have left, the shield of Gryffindor will be on the joined ones grave, only the protector can return it, now his house, and school are returning to proper ways." He told them. "Return it, the School shall recognise your position, but be warned, she may become mischievous in her joy. She usually added a new dimension to our prank wars with the founders; there were times I regretted us adding those runes as we built her, not that we ever begrudged it."

"Lord Utred, it shall be back in place by this time tomorrow, I give my word." Harry assured the warrior, smiling at the thought of the castle creating pranks.

Utred nodded his gratitude. "My thanks, Lord protector, once it, and you, are back where you belong, the school's wards shall once more be at full strength. Any active evil influence will be overwhelmed, and its influence dispersed. Now, my descendant, proceed; my duty is now done. You have my gratitude, fare ye well until you join us, many years from now."

Hermione looked at Utred. "Spirits of my ancestors, the usurper is gone; his hold on our family over, the penalty he forced Slytherin to impose over you is spent. I stand before you as proof my words are true; the first witch of Utred's blood since the usurpers death, pass on as you wish, with peace." Her wand tip began to glow, a warm, yellow, soft corona spread from it. Hermione knew the spell was changing, only the incantation remained, taking a glance at her grandparents she took a deep breath. "Agtodeatacita agitotenus cubitusotiurn." She called the words she had translated, instinctively, or perhaps magically, knowing the correct pronunciation, in a loud clear voice that rang round the graveyard.

The corona of light spread, touching her friends wands, magnifying the incandescence of the spell. Dudley himself glowed, he did not, of course, have a wand, but he could feel the magic reacting within him. The light expanded, forming a dome over the cliff top. The warm yellow dome, strangely reassuring as thousands of ribbons of light erupted from its surface, rippling downwards until every spirit had one touching their head.

Two female spirits descended through the dome to land next to Utred. Hermione recognised the Lady Frayja; the other she did not know, but she had to be Utred's second wife. At least, from the greeting he gave her, she hoped that was who it was as he kissed first one, then the other greedily.

The dome directly over the church split open, but instead of revealing the evening sky, a circle of bright white light filled the aperture. The ribbons of light attached to those around the perimeter of the dome began to move towards the bright white light, gently lifting the spirits they were attached to. As those ghosts feet rose above the heads of those in front of them, those spirits began their ascent. The next spirits in were soon quickly rising, then next and the next. It was not long before the first of them reached the event horizon above them and disappeared into the light within the aperture. The dome was filled with rising spirits for several minutes before Mr. and Mrs. Huntrodds, whose grave they were stood next to, began to rise; then Hermione's grandparents, who like the joined couple, held hands as they ascended.

Finally Utred floated upwards, his wives watched his ascent for a moment, then turned to the six living young people.

"Thank you for freeing our husband to join us." Lady Huntrodds addressed them.

"We were unaffected by what Salazar had to do, he awaits Utred to embrace him on the next plain." The other figure explained.

"We both passed on when we died, but could, and did, visit occasionally as you know." Lady Huntrodds added. "We shall wait with our husband to greet each of you, though others will arrive from our line before you do. Young Dursley, your dormant core is awakening, I, like my husband, can sense it. It will always be weak, but enough to survive; you shall need a wand which awaits you, made by an Ollivander of our time; friend of Utred and the first of his family the first to attend Hogwarts as a Student. Young Toki was a very talented wand-maker, yours lies in the family shop in London, though he traded in Hogsmeade in his family's home, which lay where your new home is now. Yes Maria, you are returning to your family roots just as Dudley is, though there is no house on the spot where his ancestors lived"

Dudley was wide eyed with amazement. "You mean I'm a Wizard? Blimey, Dad would be furious."

Utred's second wife smiled. "Yes, though not a strong one, you would not have been able to attend Hogwarts though, you would have received a letter if it had been. You shall not be able to do complex magic, but like I was, you are more than a Muggle or squib, you shall need that wand to find out exactly how strong you are though."

"I'll take him to the shop in Diagon Alley tomorrow." Maria assured the two noble women.

The two women bowed then, smiling they joined hands and floated up to join Utred, before he crossed over the boundary above them. They linked arms with him, all three looking up, Together, without a glance behind them, they followed the other spirits into the light, and out of sight of the six living left behind, Utred's long wait over, at last. The moment they had passed into the light, the aperture began to slowly close, and the wands began to dim, their owners lowering them as they returned to there normal state. The outer edges of the dome began to rise up towards the apex, revealing the late evening sun casting its orange glow over the town, the dome shrank upwards, until it disappeared as a point of light suddenly extinguished in the evening sky. They stood for a moment, it was done, the friends looked at the grave where it had all started for Hermione. Laid on top of it was a circular shield, like the one Utred had worn on his back, it was painted red and gold, the division of the colours running vertically through a burnished domed metal boss at its centre. A black Griffon was painted above a lion in the same colour, the same badge Utred had worn next to his Thor's Hammer on the leather thong round his neck. The wooden disc was edged, protectively, with a metal rim. Harry lifted the heavy shield, turning it so that he could grip the handle, which was behind the protective central boss, the shape of which allowed space for his hand. As he gripped the handle, the back of his hand brushed something in the boss, which then fell to the floor. It was another leather pouch; inside was a large ring and a parchment of runic script, which he passed to Hermione, who read it whilst he inspected the ring.

"It's the Huntrodds family ring." She murmured and Harry gave it to her. "The Lordship ring; it's mine until our first male child comes of age, then he will become the first Lord of Tang since Utred. It also says for you, Harry, to show the shield to Godric's mother; her portrait guards his tower, before you replace it in the room behind her."

"The Fat Lady is Gryffindor's Mother?" Ron said incredulously.

Harry laughed. "We should have guessed really Ron, who else would he trust his students' safety too."

Hermione nodded. "Yes it does make sense when you think about it. Anyway we had better put everything in my bag; I can't see the Muggles being too happy if we walk through town carrying weapons."

Dudley chuckled. "That could lead to an interesting conversation at the Police station, I have no doubt."

Once everything was safely in her bag, including the shield, Hermione glanced once more at the grave of the Huntrodds that had started it all. "Ironic really, I suppose." She sighed.

"What is Hermione?" Maria asked.

"Oh I was just thinking, I came into this world of ours aged eleven completely blind, like any other Muggleborn. I put up with all sorts of prejudice and abuse, especially from that foul mouthed Malfoy, as he was then. I fought a war against pure-blood supremacy, yet it turns out that had it not been for the actions of one man, a King completely forgotten in History, who was killed by my ancestor a millennium ago, I would have been from one of the oldest pure-blood lines in the country, even pre-dating the Malfoy's." She grinned then shrugged. "I find it ironic anyway!"

Harry and Ginny smiled at their friend, then removed the wards over the churchyard before they set off towards the steps. Having retrieved the ward stone, they descended the steps, passing the first of the visitors making their way up, oblivious to the momentous events that had just taken place above the town.

* * *

10th Century:

A week after the report of the Northumbrians losses reached Constantine, news arrived that they were nearing the valley, two miles to the east, that he had chosen for his stand. Most of the Scottish Fyrd had already deployed around the valley, to await the arrival of the now homeless invaders. Now was the time that the wizard men from the village and Godrics Hollow would join the Scots, The men of Alba, and the Picts, now numbered well over fifteen thousand, additionally, they had over five hundred magic-users of adult age; as well as the students who would be left to help defend the castle should any invaders stumble across it, when fleeing the battlefield.

The Wizards had been briefed; offensive magic was only going to be used if necessary, otherwise the tactics would be as all could execute; the Muggle way. Of course, should the Northumbrians cast the first spell, then it would be no holds barred. Thanks to the efforts of the students, each Muggle in the Scots Fyrd carried a device invented by Toki. It consisted of piece of wood encasing a core made of a magical material which, once powered by one of the students, generated a magical shield which would protect against many spells, which should surprise Styr and any other Wizards among the Northumbrians. It was up to each individual's skill to protect themselves against the various other weapons the Northumbrians had with them.

Preparations were complete, every commander of men knew the part they would play in the events, the day was almost upon them, the tension amongst the men was naturally growing. Constantine gave the order for the remainder of the men to depart the school and prepare for battle, leaving the schools' defence to the remaining staff and to the Students. Each chief gathered their men, trappings and supplies. Just as all the others who were already at the chosen field of battle had, they all grasped the rope they had been supplied with by the wizard who would go with them. Once ready, the wizard tapped the rope, activating the port key; the entire group was transported to the camp site.

* * *

Each day since his recapture, Thorfin had been visited by one or other of the senior wizards of the castle, who proceeded to gloat and goad him. The guards had gleefully told him of their preparations to torture him alongside his father soon; each day that passed, they managed to erode his faith in his father's ability to rescue him. The voices speaking the other side of the door had hinted he would be moved away from the castle when the real interrogation began, so as not to disturb the students with his screams. Each day he heard sounds of torture from other cells nearby; at night this changed to the whimpering of any conscious victims. These wizards were truly barbaric, he believed; he had thought the church exaggerated its tales. It appeared his father's warnings, that their kind would stop at nothing in pursuit of power; which he had only half believed, were true. This was worse, much worse than his imagination or his privilege had prepared him for. It was, he thought, worse than anything he had seen, or inflicted on any of his fathers prisoners; even worse than anything he had done to the victims of his own actions.

Outside the cell, Toki was showing his Creafta upbringing. He, along with Utred and Tigelwotta, to the delight of Salazar, had developed charms that created horrific sounds, which were placed in various cells surrounding the one containing the murderer. These noises, along with the part conversations they ensured could be over heard within the only actually occupied cell in the castle, terrified Thorfin.

So it was a very frightened young man who was dragged from the cell, soon after Constantine had left, utterly convinced these were to be his last moments, as he was taken out of the gates by two large Scots and six adult wizards who held him at wand point. Once through the gates, another wizard bound him tightly; the others grasped his bonds, which were a port key. They were transported to the camp on the west of the valley, where unknown to Thorfin, the remains of his fathers army, large as it still was, were gathering.

* * *

Days had passed since the night of horror; Styr knew they would reach the last place his son had sent a message from within the hour; he planned to camp there

The day had two hours of light left, but he would need time when he reached the place the last messenger had described, to set up camp.

The further north they had come, the more cautious Styr became, knowing they were nearing the school. He could sense it, a certain power in the air, which grew stronger as they drew closer, reacting with his own magic; eventually this feeling would become equally strong across the land north of the wall, if the number of witches and wizards there grew. He suspected his son may not have felt the power he could; although he had done his best to train the boy in his gifts, it had not been easy to keep it hidden in Muggle Jorvik. Practical spell work had been especially difficult to achieve; Thorfin had not received as thorough a training as Salazar had given Styr as a result, and was nowhere near as sensitive to the power as he should have been, or as skilled as the boy thought he was.

Styr's thoughts wandered as he headed the line on horseback, his chief advisers either side, guards close behind. He wondered what had happened to the Lords who had disappeared with their men; they had lost another six hundred only that morning, together with their lord. He could not understand their disloyalty, they would know he would make them suffer for their treachery once he returned to Northumbria.

"Your Majesty!"

The voice of the leader of his personal guard brought him abruptly out of his thoughts; compared with his trusted head of his household guard, this man was inexperienced. He regretted leaving the other man behind in Dunholm, but he needed someone to protect his new source of income there; he trusted no-one else to do it and had no idea the man was watching him from within the Scots lines.

Jolted out of his reverie by the man's voice, Styr scowled at him, before looking round at where they had reached. He saw they were in a broad grass floored valley; its slopes were steep in a few places, with rocky scree tumbling in those areas; the remainder easily climbable grass and tree covered gradients. It was much like many such valley's they had passed through on the way North, except for one important difference, which caused him to instantly halt his men. The slopes ahead were topped by heathland, with only the occasional tree, contrasting with the woodland they had emerged from, behind. At the head of the valley, closing off forward progress beneath flags and banners, was a Scottish army, a show of strength.

"At last." Styr grinned. "We have flushed the cowards out of their hovels into action, we shall camp here tonight. Be ready to receive them, they are bound to try to negotiate, now they can see how many they face. "

* * *

Constantine stood beneath his banner, Brida was beneath hers, as were Utred and Godric, with the banners of the Creaftas, founders, school and all the Scottish chiefs behind them, watching the Northumbrians arrival in the valley of the Yule sacrifice. They smiled as they saw them begin to prepare their camp, the plan was working; soon Styr's army would be surrounded by Scots. They saw the Kings' tent quickly erected, his banner flying above it, just as swiftly a group of robed priests gathered round the kingdom-less King to offer their advice. Each Northumbrian Lord headed to him as well, their men spreading out in the valley to set up tents and shelters for the night; fires were lit, flame carried from one to the next, wood gathered on the journey stacked nearby for use, ready for them to start to prepare their evening meal. The banner each of the remaining Lords in the Fyrd was erected over the tents where their men were making camp, a display of strength as much as the one on the ridge was. There was no attempt to hide the number of men they had, there was little point, they were in plain view of the Scots on the ridge, besides Styr intended to intimidate them into surrender, or overwhelm them with overwhelming forces if it became necessary.

Eventually Constantine turned to face the leaders of his army. "Well gentlemen, they are here, we shall await their envoy, after all you are led by both a King and a queen, they no longer are. However their presence here shows they are here for one reason only, we shall be forced to defend our lands. You all know what to do, tonight continue spreading dissent among them, any and all deserters from their ranks to be treated as the others were. Tomorrow we shall show whatever remains of the Northumbrian army, that they may not come here uninvited." He grinned.

They all nodded in response, grinning, then returned to their men; some moving off from the main camp, to get into position to close the valley behind the invader, others to ready for the battle. Utred and Godric were to lead the magical section of the army, though in fact, many would be integrated amongst the rest of the Scots and Picts, providing protection from any spells cast by the enemy, as well as healing for any injuries or transport out for victims. The Creaftas however had a task of their own, to encourage disarray in Styr's ranks once battle commenced.

* * *

Styr had watched the figures amongst the banners on the ridge ahead as carefully as he could across the distance between the entrance of his tent to where they stood. It seemed the battle would be here, in this valley, it matched the place he had envisioned, though the fight would not be tonight, that was certain. Battles were day time events, never in the dark, when your men might fight each other instead of the enemy. A Fyrd was an army of strangers, each man might know his neighbour, but would not know others in the battle line, so even in day light there might be occasions when two men on the same side fought each other, but it would be almost certain once the sun had set.

The figures disappeared from sight, back over the ridge, leaving the banners, including the Huntrodds cloth to taunt him it seemed, fluttering in the breeze amongst a row showing a Snake, Badger, Raven and a Griffon over a Lion. That action alone told him that they would not be begging for mercy, they would not be making the first move, they would not have turned their backs if that had been what they would do. Knowing that Salazar was aware of the protocol of talk before battle, he had assumed they all would, but from the banners, he knew his old Master was not in command, perhaps the custom was not known by the Scots savages after all. It mattered not, he would send an envoy to offer them terms to avoid battle in the morning, he did not want to, but his priests demanded that the enemy be given the chance to deflect war at the very least, especially in a country where Christians resided. He had to be seen to do it, so he would and in the process gather intelligence, discover how many men he faced at least as well as who commanded them. There were numerous other banners on the ridge, though none he recognised, but still he knew Utred and Salazar were there, the banners indicated the Scots may be more organised than had been believed, although that could be what those two men wanted to have him assume. He had no idea how many were in the Scots army, if that was what he faced, the banners simply showing the emblems of those who had brought men. He ducked into his tent to plan, with what remained of his council, not knowing that his army was already surrounded and still shrinking while it continued to be infiltrated by the enemy, who spread dissent and discontent well into the night.

Overnight another four Northumbrian Lords had attempted to leave Styr's service, having finally been convinced that Wessex now ruled their lands, so it was pointless to sacrifice themselves in what was a lost cause, or at least one that would have little reward. This was a loss of well over one thousand men to the army, all of whom had been stopped by the Scots who, unknown to Styr, had closed off any possible retreat behind him. There were several wizards among them, who were offered a safe-haven for themselves and their families. Both those that didn't accept the offer and the Muggles were taken by port key to Azkaban island.

Just as the sun broke over the horizon, unaware yet of his losses, Styr sent messengers on horseback under a leafy branch signifying truce, to offer his terms under which he would accept the Scots surrender. It was, of course, merely a courtesy, observing custom, a token to the priests, he had never even heard of it working, he knew that battle was inevitable, and from his point of view desirable to gain glory in battle. He watched his riders as they slowly walked the horses they rode, towards the ridge where the standards still flew.

* * *

Utred watched the Northumbrian camp from his position amongst the trees. He and the Creaftas were already mounted on the Sliepnir, watching as the small Northumbrian group, under the branch of truce, approached the end of the valley, waiting for the moment they would begin creating terror amongst the ranks of men. He grinned, he knew Constantine had forced Styr to send them, he knew the King was about to enjoy himself at the envoy's expense, shame he had to miss it, but they had need to get in position before dawn. This was the first stage of the battle, this and the next would be of words if all went to plan, if not then blood would fall a little sooner than it might have, either way, it was going to fall and soak the valley floor, there would be more than enough flesh for the Raven and beast to feed on.

The guards keeping watch from the ridge reported the approach of the envoys of the Northumbrians, under the symbol of truce, to the King long before the messengers began the climb towards them. Constantine and Godric had prepared for this. Half of their forces were either in position already or under concealment charms, they would allow the delegation to believe they represented a far weaker army than they actually did. Salazar met the messengers on the ridge and escorted them to the king's tent, their safety assured by their arrival under a branch, they left their weapons with a steward outside the door as was demanded by custom, they would be returned once they left. Salazar and those Lords and others of the King's men, retained their weapons, they were trusted men, the messengers were the enemy, despite arriving under the branch of truce.

They were led into the large, crowded tent, a podium was set up at the far end with a trio of thrones at its centre. There were a large number of armed men and women sat in rows along the sides of the tent, leaving a clear aisle along the centre leading up to the chairs. The guards prevented the three Northumbrians walking down the aisle, otherwise the three were ignored, and the chatter in the tent did not diminish at their presence. It was as if to those present they did not exist, they had no choice therefore, but to wait. Godric, Brida and Constantine watched the scene, hidden by a curtain hanging behind the thrones, observing the three nobles Styr had sent, noting how they behaved as they were kept waiting. This was the plan to put the messengers on edge; it was after all usual to receive such men on such a duty within minutes of their arrival, not make them wait. Constantine was, he knew, sending a message of his own. He was telling the men that he did not regard Styr as his equal, that if he was not down in the valley on Scottish land he would not be worthy of his notice. Treating the messengers with such disrespect was a sign that they, their leader and army were seen as unimportant to those whose tent this was.

The three Scots noted how Styr's men behaved, as those present continued to seem to ignore them. In fact, had the Northumbrians been more observant, they would have noticed that they were constantly watched, by men in the body of the tent.

As the minutes passed they noticed, with some satisfaction, the men grow increasingly agitated. Still they did not emerge from their concealed position, for over half an hour, all three quite enjoying the fact that having been admitted, the three men could not leave. With a grin, that indicated the mischief he had enjoyed, Constantine signalled to a Huscarl. The Huscarl grinned, he knew they were about to put on a show for their visitors and ensure they knew their place. He walked to the podium, silence fell, and Styr's men turned to see what was going on.

The Huscarl loudly announced that the Court of Lord Gryffindor of Godrics Hollow, Queen Brida of the Picts, and King Constantine of the Scots was now open to receive petitions from those present. Horns were blown, and shields beaten loudly, in and around the tent, the three Northumbrians looking fearful, worried they had been tricked, and they were now surrounded and defenceless. Everyone inside the tent rose as the three emerged; Brida between the two men, with Godric, as the junior in rank, leading the way. They each took seats on the thrones, which Godric had conjured as soon as Styr's messengers had been sighted; Constantine sat in the middle with the others on either side of him.

While the gathered Scottish nobles settled, the other three founders took places, one next to each throne. Salazar was next to Brida, Rowena with Godric, and Helga with Constantine. As silence fell, the Northumbrians tried to walk up the aisle left by the men, only to be stopped again by the two heavily armed, emotionless and silent guards.

Constantine ignored the group a little longer in order to follow the protocol of a formal court, he took business from a few of the Lords Present, before Brida took a couple of items from her Pictish nobles and Godric from two of his villagers. All these items dealt with minutia of every day life, before Constantine asked if the messengers sighted earlier had arrived yet. Receiving the answer he then nodded to the Huscarl as the formalities concluded.

"All those not of these lands with business for this court must now make themselves known." The Scot called out, in Celtic, a language the Northumbrians did not speak.

The laughter of the men filled the tent, the Northumbrians looked round puzzled. Eventually Constantine indicated for silence. "I see the strangers in our midst." He boomed. "They are obviously ignorant of the customs of a court, having not made themselves known to us. Bring them forward, so we might hear their message."

The guards led the Northumbrians forward, the men knelt before the dais, despite their anger at being forced to wait and the words of this supposed King, they knew they had to observe the niceties still, they could not risk showing disrespect despite being under the protection of the branch.

"Your Majesties, my Lord, we come representing King Styr of Northumbria. He generously offers you the lives of your men, in exchange for you willingly submitting to his rule, and peacefully surrendering the place which is currently used to teach witchcraft. In doing so you will avoid certain death at the hands of his Fyrd, and benefit from the benevolence of our powerful King and the one true Church that supports him." One of the men announced loudly so all present could hear what he said, he looked round smugly, as if he fully expected them to appreciate the generosity he offered.

The three on the thrones looked at each other, grinned, then looked back at the Northumbrians and burst into peels of laughter, joined by the men present. The Northumbrians again looked about them, puzzled, it appeared that they could not understand why they were not being taken seriously. "We make an offer of peace from our King and you laugh, are you rabble so set on self destruction." The Northumbrian shouted. "You do not stand a chance against us, we are more powerful, both in number and discipline. By the end of the day you will be Northumbrian, through agreement or conquest is up to you."

This statement only made the laughter increase, but eventually Constantine calmed and wiped the resulting tears from his eyes, before he looked down at them. "You expect us to surrender to a landless King? Why would we agree to be part of a country that no longer exists, when we can continue to rule ourselves? Wessex sits in Styr the usurpers palace and on the throne he took, as the King, whilst Styr led a pointless and futile insurgence north of the Wall. He has lost the throne he stole from the rightful King, and any authority that went with it in those lands. He failed to see where his true enemy came from, failed to defend his people and as a result he lost his country without a drop of blood or ounce of flesh being put to the sword. This is the man you would have us bow down to, the man who is worthy of our loyalty? I can only suspect that you are either misguided, blind or joking, your offer is so ridiculous. "

The man bit his tongue to stem his anger. "Majesty, with respect, you are misinformed. Styr, our King, rules Northumbria, he has the unwavering support of our church, it is he who is destined to fulfil Alfred's dream, his country is secure. He has brought the mighty Fyrd of that country, to capture the castle used to teach evil against God's law, the number spared to come surely indicates the security of Northumbria. You have listened to rumour and misinformation, about a great and generous King. He offers you the chance to live, before we overrun your rabble and take your lands for our king and church." The man insisted.

Brida stood this time. "I assure you our information is both detailed and correct, much of it comes from the man Styr trusted to leave behind in Dunholm to look after his new source of money there, his most trusted man, a man he did not know was one of us. Your King has been betrayed by your church, Hrothweard, your most senior priest has invited Wessex north, opened the gates of Jorvik for the southerners to take. Already they guard the wall, awaiting your return. They need the men you have brought to tend their land, they do not need Styr, his usefulness to them has ended. Whether you believe it or not, you fight for a man who has lost his title and lands, but does not yet know it. Your army is meaningless to us; more abandon his cause by the hour on discovering the truth; your threats mean nothing. If he surrenders, we shall allow his men to return home; otherwise the valley below us shall be red with Northumbrian blood, your entrails devoured by wild fowl and beast."

Godric then spoke. "Tell the usurper we have his son, Thorfin, we followed him, guided his path through our lands, just as we have yours. He lost almost all his men, but did not inform his father for fear of his failure being discovered. We shall allow Styr the betrayer to see his son again, before we deal with them both, but his secrets may be revealed in the process. Unfortunately the boy has committed a murder whilst being allowed to mix with his peers in our community, he will die with no honour. Tell Styr, that he has lost it all, convince him of the truth, save your Northumbrian lives, he will not win, but he could cost you all everything if you stay with him."

The Northumbrian spokesman was incensed, but before he could say anything, Constantine concluded. "If you leave our lands now, and take what's left of your Fyrd with you, leave our soil and never return, we shall spare your lives as Queen Brida states. Styr must remain to face justice for his crimes, not least those he has perpetrated against Lord Gryffindor's people. There is also a Northumbrian Lord with us who would be excited to see Styr personally."

The Northumbrian looked at the king. "What Lord? All true Northumbrians are loyal to King Styr the glorious. Despite your attempts, your would never convince us, no Lord of our country, or any civilised one, would support a rabble such as yours, they know you stand no chance." He sneered.

"Lord Utred, the Lord of Tang is amongst us, and will lead his own men and many of my own against your invasion, Styr owes him a debt for the murder of his family, today he will collect that debt. Styr is trapped here; if he returns to Northumbria he will die, if he remains he will be killed; it's his choice, but either way he will feed the Raven." Brida nonchalantly informed them. "We so called disorganised rabble on one side, Wessex in Northumbria fulfilling Alfred's dream for his church on the other. You have a choice, desert your ex-king and live here, desert him and return to live under Alfred's dream, or die below, we have been telling your Lords that since Hrothweard fulfilled the Church's wish. The wise have abandoned your lost cause, only the fools remain."

"Lord Utred is dead; he was a traitor, and was killed as such when Styr succeeded his brother as King. Tang was taken in compensation of its Lords treachery on the death of the old King." The Northumbrian scoffed. "We offer peace, but you respond with lies, poor ones at that. We should expect nothing more from pagans, you have not the wisdom to see the truth."

"So be it!" Constantine concluded. "However I remind you that all three of you have a duty to inform your Lords and Styr what has been said here, your opinion is irrelevant in that. Styr will see his son in the valley below before the battle as promised. You may leave."

With that dismissal, the Northumbrian spokesman turned with his countrymen, and quickly left; the only reason they were not stopped and killed for their disrespect was they had arrived under the branch of truce. The custom of the branch forbade either side from doing more than talk, unless they broke the understanding, it guaranteed them safe passage in and out of camp. Constantine and the Scots respected the ancient custom, even though they suspected Styr would not have done the same had the positions been reversed.

Salazar watched the three men leave the tent, then turned to the others. "Right, so with the pointless protocol, which everyone knows is no more than posturing that achieves nothing done, can we now go to war?"

Constantine grinned "Yes Sal, I believe we shall, at least once you have been seen by your old Student. Send word to Lord Utred and the chiefs, let Styr form his wall, no more than that. Let's show them why the Romans could not hold the part of our lands they took, show him why they fled south before us."

Godric smiled. "It shall be so Majesty; Salazar, show his army what we say is true. Show them the boy, then expose the usurpers true nature, the more lives we save, the better."

Salazar nodded and smiled, before leaving the tent.

Constantine's army was spread round the perimeter of the valley, deliberately aiming to contain the fighting in the valley, where it could be controlled. Although battle was glorified in saga and song, it was not something those who had survived it in the past, relished the prospect of being in again. Even Salazar, whose attempt at humour had been intended to lighten the mood, knew better than to truly revel in the inevitable events to come. Still, preparations must be made, and duty performed. None in the Scottish army, be they magical or Muggle, whether veteran or not, would shy away from that despite each one feeling fear.

Utred watched the Northumbrian messengers return rather hastily, and smiled grimly. Their haste indicated they would soon be at war, this was confirmed a few minutes later by the messenger from Constantine. The message changed everything to this point, before it battle was technically merely a possibility, now it was inevitable. Although they had expected it would be, the reality of it changed the mood of the Creaftas. They watched as the men with Constantine placed thousands of shields along the ridge across the slopes, either side of the waterfall. This was a show of strength, a bluster to some extent, intended to intimidate Styr's men with the number of men they faced, there were far more shields on display than they had men at that end of the valley, still it was an impressive display, and they were not revealing all the positions they occupied, now they simply waited for battle to begin.

* * *

Styr had wanted to attack at day break, though they would have to fight up hill, which was a distinct disadvantage. He wanted to negate that by sending his men in then, before the Scots could react, catch the fools unprepared, but the priests had objected, insisting he attempt truce first. So, reluctantly, he had sent men forward under a green branch, the sign of truce. One of his own guard, and two Huscarls had been sent, and he had awaited the news they brought back. They were taking a long time, he the priests enforced patience. He was about to order the attack begin, when he was notified that his envoys were travelling back at speed, which told him that his offer had been rejected as he expected and had in fact wanted. He was still troubled that there was no sign of Thorfin, not a word as there should have been, this nagged at him, his only doubt about his plan at this point, he wanted to know what had happened to the young man. Styr summoned his lords and priests to attend him, in order that they could all receive and hear the response and waited them inside his council tent.

"Your majesty." The senior of the envoys spoke minutes later, in front of the gathered Northumbrian nobility, which he noted were fewer in number than the night before. "We face a man who calls himself King of the Scots, a Woman they call Queen of the Picts and a Lord named Gryffindor, at least those are the three who received us. They have an army of just a couple of thousand, if the number of tents we saw are any indication. We were before an audience of one hundred, we addressed the three and their main advisers after they made us wait over an hour and treated us as though we were of little consequence to them."

Styr waved his hand absently, hoping the pompous man would hurry through this unimportant waffle, salted with one or two important grains of information. Styr wouldn't have minded if they had gutted this idiot, it would save him the trouble later, once again he missed the counsel of Skorri Bleac, his most trusted guard, but he was back in Dunholm.

The man continued. "They insinuated that your majesty no longer has a kingdom, claiming the archbishop had allowed Wessex to take Northumbria, even inviting the southerners into your capital. They rejected your generous offer with this justification, they also made the ridiculous claim that they hold Thorfin hostage and that the Lord of Tang fights alongside them."

"What?" Styr bellowed; the priests looked alarmed at his out burst. "They hold Thorfin?"

The man continued. "They say they hold your son, they claim he is a murderer."

Styr looked ready to kill the trio, but it was a priest who spoke up.

"Lord King, your attempts at peaceful reconciliation have failed, it would appear that it is God's will to destroy these pagan Scots and their supposed King, Queen along with any supposed Lords they may have. If it is war they want, then it is God's will that we use his strength to defeat them, and rescue your son."

Styr looked to the priest wide-eyed. "You want war?"

"No, your majesty, but God's will be done; the pagans, and they are clearly not Gods people that we face, or they would have welcomed you as his servant, must be shown the error of their ways." The priest replied.

"Agreed." Styr smiled greedily, "Not to mention the gold you might gain once we win. Lords, assemble the men, form the wall."

They left the tent, only to stop outside to stare at the hillside ahead. The sight of so many of the Scottish and Pictish shields, bright coloured, symbols clear on them, placed ready for use was surprising; they could see a large number of figures laying out more. Even if this were exaggeration, and the Scots could muster only half the number shown, their army was still far larger than estimated by the envoy's.

The priest again spoke, this time in awe. "Good God spare us, how many of these savages are there?"

"Shield wall, now." Styr screamed. "We attack before they can organise."

There was instant chaos as the remaining Northumbrian Lords scrambled to gather their men, rousing them into action.

It was into this scene that the figure of Salazar led Thorfin, still bound, towards the area between the ridge and Northumbrian camp. Styr stared at his old mentor wide-eyed, he knew this man was dangerous, and cunning, but this appeared a blatant, potentially provocative act. He was either returning his son to him, or openly, some might think recklessly, challenging Styr to act rashly to rescue his son. Salazar stopped about one hundred feet from them and stood, forcing Thorfin to stand, to one side, but behind him, his head hung in shame.

"Styr, my student, I would speak with you about your son, and his actions to others of my house, as once you were." Salazar called.

The priests glanced at Styr, the question obvious on their faces. They could not understand how Styr had been apprenticed to this plainly pagan man.

"You breach your oath to me Salazar." Styr retorted without thought. "You side with those who would kill me."

"I side with our own people, my student, I plainly have not broken the oath between us, I live, which I would not if I had done as you suggest. You however, have betrayed your own for personal gain. Return south of the wall, if you do not believe Hrothweard has betrayed you and leave us in peace, or surrender yourself to me; either way you shall not live long for your crimes." Salazar retorted. "Now, do you agree to us placing your son on trial, appearing to the charge he murdered a student of my house."

"You will hand over my son unharmed Salazar; unharmed or face the consequences."

"Perhaps your priests will rule on the fate of your son, Thorfin the murderer." Salazar grinned, he turned to the one stood closest to Styr. "Priest, what does your God say about dealing with people who have killed a child in cold blood?"

Styr spun round to the priests. "Don't answer him, he wants to trick you."

The senior priest replied. "It seems likely that he may not be the only one who is engaged in trickery, my Lord. Just what did he teach you, and what oaths do you have with him?"

Styr looked at the priest with incredulity. "You dare question me?"

Styr looked at the priests and his remaining lords, who were watching with interest the unfolding drama involving the Kings son. The men of the Fyrd were assembling ready for battle behind them all, shields held ready; the variety of weapons displayed intrigued Styr. There were, of course few swords or even proper battle axes; there were, however, numerous wood axes, normally used for cutting fire wood, a few spears, but more pitch forks, staves, bill hooks and knives; he knew his own men hid wands where they could be easily drawn when needed, but they would be of limited use against other trained wizards.

He realised he had no idea of the weaponry the enemy could muster, but he was more concerned with the looks on the faces of his Lords. Dissent had been spread from the first words of Slytherin and the sight of his son bound as he was. His fury rose, he would show them all, his sword flashed as he drew it, then he charged and swung it to attack his old mentor. Salazar stood completely still, impassive and unconcerned as his student charged at him, then the sword passed right through him, he laughed as it did. The look of disbelief on Styr's face as the shock set in.

"How lucky for you that I am not really with you Styr, had you succeeded in killing me then our Oath, sealed in magic, would have died as well. I am in fact up on the ridge watching you, listening and projection charms are really useful, though invented after your time with your own people."

Wide eyed with fury Styr bellowed. "Grab Thorfin, quick."

The three priests leapt into action and converged on the young man; unfortunately they arrived with such eagerness that two sustained nose bleeds and another was knocked out cold from the impact. Thorfin was also not there, although they could see him.

The figure of Salazar smiled. "Know this Styr the betrayer, you will join your son soon enough, like father like son; you both have betrayed your people, both have killed your own, soon you will share the same fate. Your chief Christian wizard has betrayed you, Alfred's dream has come to pass while you seek personal glory. He opened the gates of Jorvik, and allowed the Saxon King from the south in, and is now sat on your throne, you lost the moment you left Dunholm." Salazar laughed. "You can Apparate, go see for yourself, perhaps." He challenged. "You can be there and back in seconds after all, or were my teachings wasted on you? You will be killed on sight if you venture south of the wall, your men will be returned to their farms, once they swear loyalty of course. Stay and die, leave and die, that is your reality now. You, my student, are also my greatest disappointment." The image faded and with a pop its twin appeared in its place, holding a leafy branch mockingly. "Come my student, show them your true nature, go and see your Palace for yourself."

Styr looked around him, if he Apparated now the priests and the Christian Lords would know what he was. They may now suspect it, because of what had been said, but this would prove it. No, he was more cunning than that, he needed to keep his credibility with these people to keep his position. "Form the wall, this is a trick, they have drugged us in our sleep, or bewitched us, in an attempt to fool us." He stormed desperately.

"Very well Styr, it seems your need for power has clouded your judgement, you were not this stupid as a student." Salazar gloated, then suddenly, his voice rose in volume magically so all in and around the valley could hear him. "To all wizards and witches remaining in the invading Northumbrian Fyrd, your so-called King has lost his kingdom to Wessex, Alfred's dream has come to pass. Styr has murdered our own kind to keep the favour of the church, which has now betrayed Northumbria, just as the rumours you have heard have told you. We can offer you a safe-haven from the persecution of the church, and the betrayal of your kin, by my student, the traitor Styr. Simply Apparate to the banners on the ridge, with your family, and any belongings you can carry. Those of you who cannot Apparate, create a port key, or leave the field before battle begins. Any of your friends or neighbours with you may go with you if that is what they wish, we will welcome you. Any who do not have our abilities, leave the field now and save your lives, you will be disarmed, but not harmed. I swear by my magic that I have spoken the truth to you in this statement, so mote it be."

All the witches and wizards in the valley saw, and recognised, the flash of a magical oath coming into force. Salazar sent red sparks into the sky, proving his magic was still working, and the truth of what he had said. In that moment the Northumbrians lost a quarter of their number.

One of Styr's own magical guard stepped forward, and stood next to Slytherin; magnifying his voice, he to spoke to the Northumbrians. "For those of you still here and who do not know, you just witnessed a man putting his life on the line; if he had spoken one single untruth, then he would now be dead. Northumbria has fallen, we have been betrayed by the church, and those of us who have magic have been betrayed by one of our own. Styr has lost his Kingdom, his source of power to command and our homes. He is a puppet of the church, who has failed to fulfil his duty to us, murdered many Lords, and his brother, all on the Archbishop's order, to gain the throne. They have allowed him to dig his own grave, like the fool he is; we have already fulfilled the mission the priests of Jorvik wanted us to achieve. We were here, helpless, while they gifted our lands, which they controlled, to Wessex. Why fight for the fool, who will send you to your deaths, for nothing." He nodded to the founder. "I for one accept your offer." He added, then Apparated away with a pop, reappearing beneath the banners on the ridge, along with others.

Salazar looked at his old student, sadly shook his head, then disappeared, with a light pop, as well.

Styr fell to his knees, he knew Northumbria was gone, he watched half his guard abandon him, they knew the truth of his old teachers words as did he the moment the sparks had left the Wizard's wand. One of the priests Hrothweard had sent with him, as his personal chaplaincy, knelt next to him.

"You wish to pray my King?" He asked.

Styr glared at the priest, whose face was oddly deformed; it was a face only a mother could love. Why is it so many men who could never fight or find a woman who would accept them become priests, he pondered; damn stupid too, he thought, before his rage exploded. "You bloody fool, Northumbria is gone, your traitorous friend Hrothweard has seen to that; no I don't want to pray to your bloody nailed God you idiot."

A second priest was shocked. "There is no need to be so crude my Lord. Whatever the Lord Archbishop has done will be the will of God, you can take comfort in that."

Styr stood and smashed his fist in the foolish priest's face. The man's nose erupted with blood as it broke. Styr grinned, as the man yelled in pain and held his nose, whilst his colleagues glared at the perpetrator of what they, and their church, held to be a crime against God. It was at that moment that more men walked from the battlefield, led by their Lords.

"You fools, don't you ever dare question me or my decisions again, I am sick of hearing the line that your nailed God knows best, this is the work of men, and that self important Earsling in Jorvik. Why did he send you with me? Why you three and your dead friends in particular? How did you offend the Archbishop? He certainly wanted you out of the way, as much as he wanted Northumbria undefended; fine, he has Northumbria, but we shall take this land; I shall be King of the Scots, then one day we shall retake my capital, Jorvik." He shouted at the now fearful priests, turning to what was left of his army and ordered. "Form the wall, we will attack those Scottish Earslings and kill them all."

He would take his revenge on the school and this land. The castle would be his palace, he would not be long without a throne, his son by his side.

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Authors Notes:

Hope you enjoyed it all, I look forward, as always, to seeing any reviews you may leave. There is at least one more chapter to go, it is the longest of the story so far so depending how editing etc goes, it may end up divided into two, though I will only make that decision once if it is over 25k words by then. Let me know if you have an opinion on if such a long chapter is ok or not, Then please do let me know, i would be interested and it will help guide any decision if it becomes necessary. The next one (unless it becomes 2) is the only chapter of the story that has not previously been posted in it's original form elsewhere

Anyway, until next time.

Tgfoy

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Historical Notes:

The Latinesque phrases I have mutilated to form Hermione's spell are a collective of words which all individually loosely mean anything to do with passing on into light and spirits. I have really mangled them and merged them together though.

The shield wall was a common battle tactic where the line of men overlapped their shield with one next to them (usually with the man on the right). It was an effective defence until the advent of fire arms and battles often began with two shield walls clashing (imagine a Rugby scrum with hundreds of participants). Whilst shield walls are not used by the military any more, they are seen in use by many police forces when they are required to deploy riot shields. I have also been informed by a serving officer that full chain mail, with helmet and shield, in fact weigh less than current riot gear used by Police in the UK.

Arm bands of gold were often worn as an indication of wealth, as were coloured cloth, fur and jewellery, the more bling worn, the wealthier you looked. This was important in tenth century society, even the women wore such signs of wealth and status. The brighter coloured or finer the cloth, the more leather in your shoes, the more gold on display the more important you were saying you were, in fact some metal jewellery has been found made of a cheap metal with evidence of efforts to make them look expensive.


	21. Resurrection

Disclaimer: As always, anything you recognise from the novels by J.K. Rowling belongs to her and I make no claim on it, anything else however is from my weird imagination.

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This chapter contains tenth century battle scenes and scenes of dueling, which include descriptions of the injuries inflicted.

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 **Chapter 21**

 **Resurrection.**

 **Tenth Century:**

Each one of the Northumbrian Lords in Styr's Fyrd began to urgently issue orders to their men, just over half ordered their men to retreat from the battle field. After what they had seen and heard in the last few minutes together with how the King had behaved, they preferred to leave and see what, if anything, they could salvage of their homes. They were the first to discover they were surrounded, trapped in the valley. The moment they became aware of it, they found themselves somehow transported to an open field, they did not know where. A Girl, not much over twelve, approached the men who had appeared closest to where she had been sat on a chair, apparently waiting for them to arrive. "Which of you is your Lord?" She asked.

The men indicated to him as he stepped forward. "Where are we? We were told we would be returned home." He challenged, but if he thought it would intimidate the girl, he was sadly disappointed.

She shrugged. "Gather all the Lords, whichever of you can read can then read this parchment to them all, they can then either tell the men and their entourage or not, it is up to you." She handed him a roll of parchment, then with a pop, similar to that heard when the man who called himself Styr's teacher had left, she and her chair disappeared.

The Lord unrolled the parchment and read it to himself, looking up he noticed others were trying to get out. He noted that they soon found that although there were no guards, they could not leave the field, soon settling to await whatever would come. He turned to his men. "Go get the other Lords, tell them I have a message from our captors, if they wish to hear it, they are to gather here immediately. Get the men to set camp for the day." He ordered them, they quickly spread round the field delivering the message.

Within minutes the Lords were gathering, tents erected and fires lit, wood appeared nearby for their use, together with barrels of water, and baskets of food. Latrines appeared on the opposite side of the field, it seemed their captors were ensuring their needs were looked after. With the Lord's gathered he read out the parchment to them, it assured them they would be able to return to their homelands if they wished, by the next day at the latest. They were warned that any attack on those who assisted them, would result in swift retribution, they should be patient as there were already a large number of their countrymen held elsewhere who would also be returned. The Lords may not be pleased not to be sent home immediately, but they accepted that their captors had other priorities for the moment, they reflected they would not have gone to so much trouble if the positions were reversed. The one thing the mornings events had told them was that battle they had left, was no longer theirs, or even Northumbria's, but Styr's.

Those Northumbrians still in the valley formed a long straight shield wall, each shield overlapping with its neighbour, the least experienced men held the shields with layers of the more experienced forming rows of similar walls behind them, ensuring the fearful and inexperienced could only move forwards or be trampled to death by those behind. Then began the period of intimidation before shield walls engaged. The sound of the Northumbrians beating the inside of their shields, thundered through the valley, accompanied by the yells of the men in time with the rhythm they were beating out and insults aimed at the Scots, who had yet to form a visible wall of their own.

This was Utred's first signal, battle was now inevitable, he and the Creaftas grinned from their position, hidden in the trees on the plateaux below the hills above the valley, but out of sight just below the ridge to it. They were almost in line with one end of the Northumbrians shield wall, just slightly behind it, the ideal position for their task, which was to remove as many of the battle veterans as possible from behind the wall, as early in the battle as they could, using a tactic none of them had tried before. It was a strategy designed to intimidate and decimate men, at the very least dispersing them, causing chaos in the line, undermining the walls strength before it could be used offensively. Utred readied himself and his men, fear mixed with adrenaline coursing through him, firing him for what he was about to do. Once he had committed them to this course, men, the father, son, or husband of many women were going to be badly injured and die, the usurper was in for a surprise.

The lights of a multitude of spells soared from the ridge where the banners were displayed, cutting through the air towards Styr's army, amongst a cloud of flaming arrows, again launched from the head of the valley. Shields in the wall instantly rose to protect the men below, but both arrow and spell fell deliberately short of the wall, causing laughter and insults to rise amongst the Northumbrians, one of them breaking the line to show his bare arse to the Scots. The laughter was brief, cut short when a dull flame rose quickly from damp grass, spreading across the valley floor far more swiftly that the conditions would have allowed naturally. It was a spell driven conflagration, creating thick white smoke which swiftly spread through the line, across the valley bottom, obscuring their view. The magical fire took hold of the dense undergrowth, burning without destroying, its dense smoke causing the Northumbrians laughter to change to the sounds of choking on the now acrid air, their lungs soon craved. Their eyes began to sting and water, their shield wall falling apart as they gasped for clean air.

The noise of thundering changed from the sound of shields being struck, to that of stampeding horses. The Northumbrians were terrified, they could not see which way to run through the tears and smoke, the sounds of men choking and vomiting adding to the cacophony assaulting their ears. Suddenly screams and the sound of blade on flesh, shield and bone joined the macabre symphony building in the valley, first the metallic scent of freshly spilled blood joined the stench of smoke, quickly followed by the addition of the unmistakable aromas of vomit, urine and excrement, as the fears of the men began to manifest physically, along with the natural reaction to the sudden death of a man. Out of the dense fume came shapes on legs, so many legs, moving swiftly through the men, carrying death to the Northumbrians in the form of blade sweeping down to bite into it's victim, cutting and slicing through flesh, sending showers of blood into the air only to fall as a gruesome rain on those around The force of the mounted attackers swords even smashed through skull and limb protected by Helm and mail of those rich enough to own them, those who couldn't lost limb and life, bodies of both falling to the ground where, for some, their life spilled from them as quickly as innards and blood.

Above the magically low lying smoke that dispersed just above the Northumbrians heads, the Creafta's rode the Sliepnir, charging along the lines, cutting through the most dangerous invaders, making free with swords, slicing flesh and bone as the hooves of their mounts trampled others to the ground. The air filled with screams, blood and flesh as they wreaked havoc with the unshielded rear ranks of experienced fighters, who had no time to react before their attackers were gone. They reached the other side of the valley and turned, they could see the disarray they had caused, the men of what had been the shield wall did not know which way to face, they stayed on the spot, not daring to walk forward on the increasingly wet, slippery ground simply turning on the spot, trying to see the assailants. Another wave of arrows cast a swift moving shadow over the grey cloud filled sky, this time easily reaching the lines of Northumbrians, some raising their shields as they heard the woosh of the arrows flying through the air, many were not so quick, a few were killed, more were injured, the lucky ones were just scared further as they thudded into the ground. Once the flying shafts reached their targets Utred prepared to lead the Creaftas through the lines again, neither wizard nor Sliepnir had received injury, so all would attack again whilst the chaos remained.

Once more they charged through the mayhem, just as rain began to fall, though Utred did not notice as the blood of the fresh victims sprayed him as their flesh and bone succumbed again to his sword. The cries of the enemy once again filled the air, as their bodies fell to the blood soaked ground, the rain hardened as lightening streaked across the sky, yet Utred still did not notice it through his blood lust and the singing of his sword. It was only when he reached the trees where they had started that he noticed the rain falling. The Scot's opening strategy had, so far, ensured they had lost none on their own side, though a couple had sustained minor injuries, a few cuts and grazes at most, for now.

Another cloud of arrows arced gracefully through the air, to fall on the Northumbrian lines, that sent their victims back, away from the now fearful wall of wood thudding into men and ground. Utred saw hundreds of men attempting to flee the battle, they would be captured by the Scots who had closed off that end of the valley. Styr's fighting force was beginning to crumble, though he still had thousands of men capable of fighting standing their ground. The rain was damping down the fires, the smoke clearing, as the magic powering them waned, they could see Styr's men desperately reforming their wall, facing the head of the valley, their backs turned on the gore being revealed as the smoke cleared behind them. It mattered little now, the Creaftas task was done, fear had been effectively spread through Styr's men. Another wave of arrows and spells flew, further thinning the numbers, until they put shields over their heads again. Styr, the priests and his guard were now separated from their army by a thick moat of dead flesh strewn over the field, now revealed between them.

"My God!" A rotund priest exclaimed, shocked at the carnage before them.

"What's wrong with you, you fat Friar, what did you expect? War costs lives and we are not done yet you coward." Styr sneered, then furiously turned to face his army.

He bellowed orders in his fury at the failure of his Fyrd to stand its ground, the fearful Northumbrians ignored their own dead and wounded lying on the blood wetted ground, some slipping as they repeatedly spun round, watching for the next attack, unsure which from which direction it would come. The wind dissipated the last of the smoke from the valley, and the inexperienced were chivvied back into line by the remaining veterans.

The Creafta's, still mounted on the Sliepnir, looked down from the ridge at the chaotic scene beneath.

"We have lost the smoke, but it served its purpose, we have spread fear and thinned their numbers." Utred grinned, the sight most disturbing as his white teeth showed through the crimson of his blood soaked beard.

A silvery form arrived, it was Godric's Patronus. "Enough, your part in that is done, we shall send in the wall, watch for stragglers, we shall deal with Styr once his army is under control." It instructed, before dissipating.

The Creaftas grins grew grim, the most costly part of the battle was about to begin.

A new thunderous sound rolled down the vale from the ridge, the Northumbrians looked up, again their eyes betraying the fear of what they could hear approaching and would see soon enough. Their shield wall was a shadow of its former self, disorganised and thinner, weaker. Still the noise they could hear was not what they would expect from the shields of what they had been told would be nothing more than a small, disorganised rabble. The volume of the rhythmic rolls of noise belied that belief, even before they could see the size of the army they faced, they knew it was far larger and far better organised than any of them had believed possible from those of this land. It was the sound of a well disciplined army, of a size that as now probably as large or larger than their own after the losses they had suffered since crossing into these lands. Then the shield wall rose into view, marching steadily, purposefully, inexorably towards them, they quailed at the sight that was descending from the ridge of the valley on three sides of them. The tangy aroma of fresh urine again joined the steely scent of blood amongst the Northumbrian ranks, as the valley side before them blackened with the numbers opposing them, a thick ribbon of heavily armed men, steadily sweeping down towards them, including what appeared to be a large army of Viking warriors among them. The fear alone rooted most Northumbrians to the spot, unable to run, incapable of escape from the horror approaching.

"Shield wall, now." Bellowed Styr.

The remaining Lords repeated the order, desperately trying to shake the men into action as their enemy reached the floor of the valley and continued to march towards them, rhythmically beating their shields with each step. That was the thunder, along with the noise of chain mail, there were no insults being shouted, nor blood curdling yells, these men knew that the mere sight of them was enough to intimidate any they faced.

Even as the Scots shield wall continued towards them, it changed, appeared to morph until it was not just a simple line moving towards them. As it had reached level ground, the men in it had smoothly, with no break in the wall, formed the deep saw tooth edge of a boars tusk formation. It was a manoeuvre only possible to achieve with well trained, highly disciplined and practised men in the wall, not something attempted lightly, but when carried out successfully, was intended to intimidate, as well as being an effective attack and defence measure. It might be a formation formed before advancing, but rarely seen or attempted on the move, especially over so long a line. Made up of thousands of men on three sides of the valley, the Scots wall was more than formidable, it was like gigantic teeth closing on there prey.

The Northumbrian shield wall was still forming as the boars tusk line closed, the men looked behind them, hoping for a route to escape, another wall of Scots, in the same formation, appeared from the trees and bore down on them from there. They were surrounded, trapped, Styr was silent, horrified at the vision before him. He had allowed himself to be surrounded in a vulnerable position, he had but one option open to survive, but fear and desperation blinded him to this chance. He shot into his tent, the terrified priests with him, his cohort of guards abandoned the wall and surrounded the shelter defensively, just as their shield wall braced in a line, they did not have time to take up any other formation to stop the Scottish wall. They were joined by three of Styr's most loyal Lords with their men, a little over a thousand men in number now solely defended the canvass structure.

The rest of his men may have formed as deep a shield wall as possible, with shields front and back, but they were already out flanked. The Scots maintained a steady pace towards them, unrelenting in their progress down the slope towards them. They reached the tent first, surrounded it with sufficient men to hold it and separate the thousand men from the rest, the gap in their lines was quickly filled as it closed on the main Northumbrian force. The two walls met, the Northumbrian defensive line buckled then crumbled as the points of each tusk crashed into them, still they fought back, convinced by the men behind them that the Scots may be flashy in their approach, but would be no challenge in a fight, they lacked the skill with weapons and would soon break ranks.

The Scots relentlessly surged into them, dividing the Northumbrians as front, side and rear ranks bit savagely into the invaders, the men behind replacing the fallen in the zigzag walls, treading over and on their dead as well as the dead of the enemy while their wounded activated the device they had been given and disappeared. Unrelentingly hacking their way forward, never stalling, swords, axes, knives and bill hooks slashing and stabbing, sending Northumbrian blood and flesh mixing with other bodily fluids into the air, the Scots wall progressed steadily. They pushed relentlessly through the Northumbrian Fyrd, sending those who surrendered to the field to join the ones who had left earlier, together with the enemy wounded, using tokens spelled by the Wizards. Gryffindor's Phoenix dove into the mass repeatedly, gripping a wounded warrior, then with a flash disappearing with them, only to reappear in a ball of flame above them. The smell of death rose with the blood, the distinctive mixed scent of body fluids, vomit, death and flesh trodden into the sodden soil beneath their feet, hung over the scene as the brutal battle was fought. The Northumbrian wall disintegrated, fragmenting the battle into many individual desperate frenetic fights amidst the carnage, black Ravens massing to circle above, waiting their chance to swoop down and feed once the fighting was done. Each combatant was no fighting to keep his footing as much as their life as they swung their weapons, the dead and other remains creating as much a hazard as the weapon of the man they fought.

Like all battles, it was not glorious or honourable, it was merely a bloody adrenalin and fear fuelled, horrific effort to kill in order to avoid being killed, it was filthy and smelly, no more than a raw endeavour of survival for those who fought next to their friends and brothers. The Northumbrians fought hard, fuelled by a desire to live, but the Scot's wall had, inevitably, held longer and slowly, relentlessly they overwhelmed the invaders. Over an hour of slaughter, of men killing and wounding men, of slipping and sliding over the remains of the fallen, of screaming, tiring, hard relentless fighting and death had passed before the meagre remains of the main Northumbrian force finally surrendered. They dropped their weapons, were bound and port keyed to join their comrades who had left the field earlier in the day. Constantine intended to allow the Muggle captives the choice of settling in Scotland or returning south of the wall once the invaders were completely defeated, the founders and Utred would decide what to do with the magical captives.

This stage of the battle was over, there as heavy loss on both sides, but the invader was defeated, all that remained was to deal with Styr's core of men still surrounding the tent where Styr remained. The Scots surrounding them offered a chance to surrender, the moment the others had been dealt with, it was an offer summarily and instantly, refused. This fight, in contrast to the larger just fought, was fast and vicious, it was concentrated in front of the tent, the Scot's vastly out numbering the tents guard who soon fell as blood flew again into the air, staining all and the canvas a deep red, matching the ground on which they had stood. Within moments most of the remaining surrendered, with little effort to assist their compatriots in front of the doors.

Utred watched proceedings from his Sliepnir, the founders, Brida and Constantine joined him on their Horses. "Lets go." Constantine stated bluntly and led the way down, through the battlefield towards the tent.

The priests now inside the tent were furious with Styr, not only had he struck one of them, but he had lost many loyal Lords and men. Topping off his ignominy by shoving them into this tent and hiding like a coward instead of fighting the pagan barbarians as his men outside were doing. Initially and certain that despite his earlier act, they were protected as clergymen, they had angrily told him what they thought of his behaviour, urging him to return to the righteous path of their God.

He silenced them with a casual wave of his wand. "You worms, you have no idea what is going on here. This is reality, not some fantasy, this is deeper, more powerful than your church. I manipulated your church to my ends, not yours, this is my game and I shall win in the end." He hissed at the now wide eyed priests, then grinned maliciously. "Despite the treachery of your church, this battle is not over yet, we just need a change of venue. If they are all here, then the castle is undefended, easy pickings, ripe for the taking and once I have it would be easy to keep it for ever without any effort and just a few men, neither your church nor those fools out there could get it from me. I will show your beloved church they picked the wrong man, I will get my kingdom back and nail Wessex and Hrothweard to their cathedral doors, how dare they betray me."

The men of the church cowered in the corner at this obvious evil from the man they had placed on the throne, the man that had persecuted the magic wielding pagans for them. They began to see that Styr had fooled them, the man who claimed to be his mentor, his teacher, had been right. The King they had supported was a Wizard, an abomination to their church. For most of the time the fighting took place outside, they simply watched Styr pacing round the tent angrily. They struggled to shout at him, but no matter what they tried, they could not make their voices heard. They had obviously been bewitched, they prayed their God would free them, the sounds of battle raging outside did nothing to convince them they would survive.

"Guard!" Styr bellowed suddenly.

One of his chosen men entered the tent. "Your majesty!" He bowed.

"Prepare the men to transport the loyal by Portkey, this tent will be the object, ensure all of us will be taken with it. Warn me when the delegation from the enemy approaches to attempt to take our surrender, that shall be our signal, this is far from over."

"Yes sir." The man replied then went back outside.

Styr busied himself casting spells on all parts of the tent, turning it into a Portkey to a destination he could only just visualise, but could sense was not far, as swiftly as he could, he added charms that would take the magic required from each Wizard it transported. It was a much more complicated process than the one used to create an ordinary Portkey, two factors influenced it, the large number of people and the fact that he was not, by any means, familiar with the destination point it was to take them to. Then he sat in his chair, placed on a small dais, glaring at the silent, praying priests and listening to the noise of battle outside.

They waited until the noise subsided then waited a while more, stiffening as renewed screams of slaughter, closer than before reached them, a small red rivulet began to seep under the canvass, slowly creeping towards the Priests.

Then a harsh whisper came from outside. "Majesty they come."

"Are all ready?"

"Those of us who survive are my King."

Styr turned to sneer vindictively at the priests. "Hold tight or not even your nailed god will save you from the pagans that approach, touch the canvass if you want to live." He touched the tent with his wand. "Prepare to witness my victory, then we shall deal with the whelp from Wessex and that treacherous Archbishop who dared give him my throne." His mouth curled into a predatory grin. "He will regret crossing me, I shall enjoy making that filth squeal like a pig, as he slowly dies, nailed to the front of his Cathedral next to Wessex, while I slowly disembowel him, then burn it to the ground."

The priests grasped the canvass, quaked in fear.

"That cowardly Earsling." Constantine spat, as the tent and Northumbrians around it disappeared.

"Don't worry, we have a trace on them." Tigelwotta grinned, placing his wand back in his sleeve.

Salazar smirked. "Tell me again why you wouldn't have done well as my apprentice?"

"I'm far too good looking Sal." Tigelwotta replied, causing everyone to laugh.

They ordered their army to prepare to leave the valley, Utred looked round at the battle field. Wizards were sending any surviving Northumbrians, whether injured or not, to join the other captives, any who still had any fight in them were bound before being sent. They were busily sending any injured Scots away to where the healers could treat them. The once green vale floor was red with the remains of battle, the bodies of men from both sides laid together, Raven already arriving to pick at the remains. The rain was already starting to wash the blood into the soil, doing its part in the cleaning of the ground, soon detached flesh would be taken by birds and animals, anything left afterwards would add fertility to the ground. Nifflers were already erupting from the ground gathering anything shiny they could, many of the survivors were doing like wise, Helmets, weapons, mail, arm bands and coin, in fact anything valuable or useful was gathered by man and beast. Men began digging a pit where the tent had been, whilst others brought timber and still more began to collect the bodies, both Scots and Northumbrian, placing them ready to be added to the pyre. No longer were the dead Northumbrians the enemy, but an honoured warrior just like their own were, all are equal in death. A grim task, but not without its rewards, those men who were gathering anything useful or valuable from the battlefield, or collecting the dead and building the pyre would earn their reward. All the treasures would be gathered together in front of the Constantine, Godric, Utred and Brida, who would distribute it amongst the Lords who would reward their men from it, but a portion would be distributed to these men first, before it was then divided equally. Any flesh that could not be gathered for the Pyre would be left, to feed beast and soil, a gift to the land they had fought on and damaged, ironically meaning this land would be amongst the most fertile in the area from next year.

Utred sat watching, flanked by the Creafta's, in the strange lull, knowing the battle would resume soon, they had planned for this, just in case Styr managed to escape as he had done. They knew the castle was safe, but still they knew for the Wizards at least this fight was not over. They had returned Thorfin to his cell by port key as soon as their shield wall had set off, they ere not going to allow him to interfere, or risk his rescue. For now all they could do was wait, they suspected the desperate ex-King would have gone to the castle, but needed confirmation before they acted. After just a few minutes, a glowing message spell arrived at Tigelwotta's side. "Hogsmeade by the wards of the castle." It announced curtly.

Godric sent red sparks high into the air, the Creafta's and founders dismounted, the Sliepnir would lead the others back, they knew they were not needed for the next part of the battle. The wizards still present gathered in response to the call of the sparks, while the Muggles who were not clearing the dead began to form up for the march back to the Castle, the camp had already been struck. Constantine nodded then rode towards the gathering column of Scots, followed by the Sliepnir, ready to lead them all, back to the castle, as soon as all was ready and the fires were lit. Everyone was now so distracted with what they needed to do, no one noticed that instead of riding off with Constantine, Brida dismount and move close to Utred.

Godric addressed the Magicals. "Styr has about a thousand men who were still gathered around the tent he cowered in, some of them wizards. They are now next to the castle, between it and the village, he means to take it, the students and creatures can hold out for a while, and they have wards to protect them, but they need us to help defeat the betrayer. You all know what to do, you have your Port keys, it's time to defend our kind."

A shout went up and they began to Portkey to their posts. Utred lifted his fathers ring from beneath his tunic, touched it with his wand, and felt two arms clasp round him. "Not without me you don't Utred." A female voice announced as he felt the familiar tug and they left the valley.

* * *

They could see smoke rising in the distance, from where they stood watching from the tower on the castle and knew there would be much more close to the ground in that distant valley, an hour or more march away. The camp, now almost devoid of men, who had gone to battle along with the few Shield maidens in the Scottish Fyrd, had been moved behind the castle. There the women and children of the Scots army sat by the cooking fires waiting news and the arrival of the wounded.

From their vantage point they could just see the Centaurs lining the edge of the forest, knowing there were other inhabitants of the vast wilderness waiting there too, in case Styr made a successful break for the castle. Because the Usurper had been here, they knew it was possible he could transport himself and a number of men close to it, even if he could not get past the wards as those linked to it could. The wards were up, protecting the castle, grounds and those within from anyone with ill intent towards the school or those who resided in it, they were as safe as they could be, but still they were nervous. They could go on the offensive as well, though they were unlikely to actually defeat any, but the smallest Northumbrian force, they would be able to hold them off until the Wizards and Witches who had gone to the valley returned. This day would decide the future of the world they lived in whether Scot, Celt or Magical.

Those on the tower were watching the area carefully, although the wards would sound a warning if an invader arrived in the area by magical means, it would not tell them where the enemy had appeared. A careful eye was needed to spot any change, those in the castle beneath them were relying on the twelve that had been assigned the task, they were determined not to let them down. House loyalty did not matter, although as it happened there were three from each, they knew the weight of responsibility was the priority, not house pride. They watched as dark storm clouds moved over the place where they knew the battle was taking place, they saw the rain falling from it like streaks of mist attaching the cloud to the ground, the single flash of lightening illuminated the sky. The storm cloud stalled as it met higher hills, only rising over them slowly as the rain emptied into the valley beneath. They could only hope that the events underneath were going better than the weather they could see above, no one enjoyed fighting under rain, it could easily cost additional lives.

Soon after, they noticed the arrival of port keyed wounded begin in the camp below, the women instantly leapt into action. These were their own men being sent from the field for treatment, with a flash Godric's Phoenix transported a small group of the injured to the camp as well. Helga ran from the castle, leading a team of students, all with wands and bags full of potions, though they would not be sufficient for all the wounded that would arrive, it was a start. They began helping the women and soon a steady stream of people too-ing and fro-ing from the doors began, each carrying additional healing potions to the injured as required. They knew the stock held in the castle had been bolstered over the last few weeks, though there were still students making more of those that would be ready quickly as well, they all hoped they had enough for all who needed them. The flow of injured arriving was relentless for over an hour, some of the most seriously hurt were carried into the castle for more intensive treatment, some who could be healed quickly returned with Flame to the battle field to fight again the moment they could. Those more severely injured were treated as best they could be and taken to tents where they could rest and recover over time, but all this was done swiftly and smoothly without fuss.

The flow of wounded arriving continued, as did the number being healed and returning to the battle, until both slowed, then stopped completely. The twelve on the tower tensed, the battle in the valley could be over, then suddenly the alarm sounded.

It was Toki who spotted the change on the ground. "There!" He shouted pointing to a large tent with men around it. "Tell the others, I'll go delay them." He shot off down the stairs before anyone could stop him.

* * *

They landed, as planned, behind the Ollivander's house in Hogsmeade, his unexpected passenger fell to the floor, pulling Utred on top of her.

"Now Utred, much as I enjoy having you on top of me, now really isn't the time." Brida remarked. "What would Frayja say if she saw this."

"Probably something like, naughty Brida, let go of my husband, he more than likely stinks by the look of him right now anyway." Frayja laughed from where she had been waiting since the alarm had sounded over the area when Styr and his men had arrived.

Utred rolled Brida off him, then got up quickly from the compromising position.

"Spoilsport!" Brida grinned as she picked herself up.

"Brida, why?" He asked.

The Celtic Queen was suddenly serious. "You think I could calmly walk or ride back here with the bearded wonder while you were fighting here without me? Do you think I could be left behind by you Utred? I couldn't have stood it if something happened to you and I were not here for you, do you think I could have lived with myself for that? Can't you see that just like Frayja I want to be at your side, I need to be with you now, more than ever, you may not be mine, but I could not bare to lose you." She implored.

"But, Brida why would you put yourself at such risk? You could have killed us both doing that, it was incredibly reckless." He asked, missing the tears developing in her eyes, that in themselves said all that needed to be.

"I can see it Brida." Frayja said sadly, taking her hands in her own. "You truly love him as much as I do, don't you."

The Queens' tears fell freely as she nodded. "I'm sorry Frayja, I know he is with you and loves you, but I love him to and after what we saw and experienced in that battle, there was no way I was going to let him go without me."

Utred swore, but his wife took the Queen in her arms. "I know." She said sympathetically. "I have seen it for a long time, I think I always have, just hoped it would go away. Now is not the time for us to talk of this though, you are a Muggle in the middle of what will fast become a magical war, you are in more danger than you have probably been in before. We must work out how best to protect you, ensure you live through it, we can't leave you alone in one of the houses, the villagers are all up at the Castle. If we left you here and you were found by Styr's men I dread to think what they might do to you if you were here on your own."

The sound of spell fire could be heard mixing with the ring of metal meeting metal and thud of blade meeting shield not too far away from them, others had found the enemy already it seemed. The noise galvanised their resolve and speeded their decision, Utred placed a shield rune on Bridas' shoulder and stuck it there with a charm, he then disillusioned her.

"Stay close to one or both of us Brida." He instructed. "Be watchful, if any of the spells come close or anything happens to us, hide or hit the floor. We shall tell the other Creaftas when we reach them, but if anything happens to us go to Godric, he will remove the spell afterwards so go to him, but prank Sal if you can first."

Frayja looked at the spot the queen had occupied. " We shall talk afterwards, Brida." Frayja said gently.

"Yes Lady Frayja." They barely heard the soft, uncharacteristically meek response.

"Right, lets go." Utred grunted grimly.

They moved in single file through the narrow gap between the long houses, Utred leading, he glanced up and down the street once they reached the front, before emerging and moving swiftly up the uncharacteristically quiet street towards the school, the other two following him.

Styr and his men had moved away from the tent quickly after they had arrived, it was now on fire, he would not need it again. The priests were cowering on their knees by a tree nearby, their lips moving in silent prayer, when Utred found them.

"Does that actually work?" Utred asked them.

The priests had not seen or heard his approach and yelped in fright, opened their eyes briefly, one of younger ones of them literally wet himself, when they saw the blood covered, demonic looking figure before them, Utred laughed.

"Poor things, they are petrified." Frayja sympathised, the men opened their eyes again, gratitude in their eyes until she spoke again. "Should I put them out of their misery do you think my Lord?"

They yelped again and tried to back away. "No, they aren't worth it, bind them to keep them safe though, they could be useful later." Utred replied.

Frayja produced her wand and cast the spell, the priests suddenly found they were bound to the tree, out of harms way and where they could not interfere, they resumed praying. Utred and Frayja turned to look at what Styr's men were doing, as planned the students and magical creatures had let the Northumbrians onto the castles grounds, close to the gate, here they were being held, so long as all went well, it was where the trap would be sprung.

It was then he noticed something odd, something not in the plan, certainly something that should not have happened. Only one student was facing Styr's men, one solitary figure, alone behind the wards, defiantly throwing spell after spell at the invaders, who were frustrated at their inability to progress further. The student's stunner's invariably hit their target, one by one the Northumbrians fell, unfortunately only to be revived by one of their wizard cohorts, but still Toki laughed as another fell. Styr and his men were growing more discomfited as their own spells rebounded from the shields, they could not get near the solitary, defiant boy and nor could anything they threw at him.

Utred was growing concerned, he had yet to make contact with the rest of the group who they had returned from the valley with, he knew he had been delayed by Bridas' little escapade, but he should have found them by now. He was glancing round the trees nearby when, at last, he saw them. Godric and Helga were leading a group stealthily up from the lake, that was half of them at least, Frayja tugged his arm, he looked at her and she pointed in the other direction, both groups were out of sight Sty, for now. He looked up the hill, Salazar and Rowena were leading the rest of the Scots wizards and witches down from the other direction, the other Creafta's were not with either group though.

"We must join up with more of our people." He urged. "This will soon be Styr's only escape route, we can't defend it on our own."

"Best go through the woods, keep out of sight." Frayja replied. "Brida, what ever you do, stay close."

"Don't worry, I will." Came the nervous reply, it sounded like the Pictish Queen had realised she was out of her depth.

Although she had seen Wizards sparring, even Utred and Godric duelling, seeing the curses being thrown towards Toki had opened her eyes. Until she had seen Utred and Frayja's faces, back behind the house, this had all been a game, she had thought they would easily protect her, but the show of spells she had seen already had scared her, she realised how vulnerable she might be. Sticking close between her two friends, they made their way through the trees.

They had hardly made it a fifty paces into the trees when a voice to their side spoke from behind a tree. "For Merlin's sake Utred, its you, we thought it might be some of Styr's lot. About time, you got here, where have you been?"

"Thanks Leoforwic." Utred chuckled. "We all here then?"

"Aye, but we should be up there, if it weren't for some Lord and his Lady holding us up." Leoforwic said suggestively.

"Not just us two though." Utred grinned.

The other Creaftas looked at him puzzled.

"Queen Brida hitched a lift with Utred, we have put a shield rune on her and disillusioned her to, but we need to ensure her safety." Frayja told them.

The Creaftas and their ladies nodded grimly, accepting the additional task, there was after all little else they could do about it. They made there way up to the higher ground closer to the Castles' wards, but near enough the road to effectively cut off any of Styr's men that tried to escape towards the village. They knew that if they fired spells at the ward at just the right angle the curse would be reflected off it, rebounding into the Northumbrians, who were still firing ineffectually at Toki. With luck, they would think the spells fired by the Creaftas were fired by their own people continuing to bounce back at them, so it would not reveal that their were wizards in the trees behind them.

Styr was getting frustrated, they had only been challenged by one boy since they arrived, by now the castle should be his, but they were stuck here. It was not just this boy, who was a nuisance, but he was being prevented from advancing in his ambitions by wards beyond his comprehension and far stronger than he had ever encountered. He shouted and bawled orders at the wizards amongst his men to keep them firing spells at the invisible barrier, hoping the sheer weight of magic would breech the barrier and allow him to storm the building, but they had to duck each time to avoid being hit by their own curses rebounding on them. Then they had the problem that the boy could fire spells through the wards at them, luckily he only seemed to know curses that were easy to deal with, but it was still a distraction to have to keep reviving those he managed to hit.

The Creaftas reached the position they were aiming for and watched, assessing the lie of the land. As well as the two groups of Wizards they saw that the centaurs led other magical creatures, staff and students to back up Toki at last. The Northumbrians were surrounded, but didn't realise it, they continued to concentrate on trying to overwhelm the wards, too busy to notice. Their only possible escape route was down the road, and that had only a slim chance of success, with the Creaftas watching the narrow corridor out, anyone who walked along it would be disarmed, stunned and bound, before being sent to the field to join the others. Utred could see Styr growing more and more frustrated, the spells he shot became stronger and stronger, until he fired a bright green one that passed through the shield, he realised it could only be the killing curse. Utred tensed, Toki saw it coming and ducked, it hit the castle wall leaving a black scar in the stone work.

The founders reacted instantly, now they had reached a range from which they could be effective, with little risk of hitting their comrades approaching from the other side. Spells sailed in from both phalanx of wizards, the Creaftas sent more from behind, the students from in front. Styr watched, wide eyed in shock, helpless as hundreds of spells fell in amongst his men from several directions at once, he realised he was trapped and vulnerable, but he wasn't finished yet.

"Shields!" He yelled, a little too late.

Utred's eyes had never left the Usurper, he cast a disarming charm at the man. The Creafta was closer than the others to the former King, so his spell hit its target before the others did, and Styr's wand flew through the air. Utred caught it just as the other spells hit and most of the Northumbrians fell to the ground. Styr stared at the wizard who had disarmed him, his eyes widened as he recognised who it was, his look turned to fury as Utred snapped his wand, giving the message the young man thought Styr to be unworthy to cast a spell. Styr could only watch as the young whelp insulted him, he was helpless to prevent it.

Seeing their comrades collapse after being struck by, what to them, looked like coloured lights, the rest of the Muggles left in the Northumbrian force could not understand what had happened. Fearing what they could not explain, most turned and fled, all but a few were captured before they had travelled too far, the last few continued towards the village, believing they had escaped.

Out of sight of the main fight, Helena Ravenclaw and her boyfriend, the Baron, formed the last line of defence at the boundary of the village, they were blocking the road in front of the fleeing men. Seeing what appeared to be a simple force of a man and a woman blocking their way down the road, the few Northumbrians who had made it past the Creaftas decided to fight, attempting to regain some glory rather than the ignominy of surrender their flight would indicate. They charged the couple, who cast spells back stunning some of those heading towards them, but six got through. Reaching close quarters, swords and axes were drawn on both sides and with a clash of steel the fight commenced, the Baron, an accomplished swords man, fought hard, killing one instantly, before engaging a second. Helena continued to cast spells on the Northumbrians, incapacitating two, then sending them to the field where their country men were held. Now the Baron was fighting three, Northumbrians at the same time isolating him whilst Helena had placed the Port keys as quickly as she could, so they could not recover and threaten them again. The Baron who, unknown to Helena, had been injured, killed the man who had managed to stab him, but the last two Northumbrians, desperate to try to regain some pride, attacked simultaneously and overwhelming him, felled him quickly, but continued frantically stabbing him repeatedly, only stopping when Helena stunned and bound them. She knelt next to the Baron and cradled the head of her love, using her wand to try to heal his wounds, his own lay at his side, but there were too many for her to heal on her own. He died in her arms, multiple wounds still bleeding, his spirit rising from his body, to stand next to her, the blood from his wounds shining silver on his translucent torso, the witch and the ghost mourning for what they had lost. After several minutes, Hilde found them, she quickly sent the Northumbrian captives to join the others, then, nodding to the ghost, knelt next to the daughter of the founder to comfort her.

Styr was now left with only a hand full of men at his side, none of whom were keen to continue the fight, but the man who had started the day in command of many thousands appeared not to have noticed he was now simply one of less than a dozen. He stood contemptuously, sword in hand glaring at the man he had failed to kill as a child and who had now snapped his wand. He opened his mouth and defiantly bellowed. "How dare you boy, you are Northumbrian, I am your King and you dare to defy me, dare to snap my wand, you filthy scum. You shall not see another day for your presumption boy, you shall soon join your father. I can still hear their screams, his and your mothers, as they burned alive in the flaming hall of Tang, I don't know which it was, but one screamed like a wounded pig as they died. I have their Gold, your Gold, we found their treasure in the scorched ground, it is mine, you have nothing." Styr lied, not knowing that Utred had his families Gold, his entire attention was on Utred, goading the young Lord, who just stood smiling at the man, who began to stomp towards him. "Like your father, you are nothing, you will die as the worthless son of a traitor, your name forgotten, while mine is sung in songs for ever."

"You will be silent Styr!" A voice roared, the sound rolling over the grounds. "You useless piece of what falls from a goats backside, you will do nothing more, if you know what is good for you and your worthless piece of slug spit you have for a son."

The man who had presumed to be King suddenly stopped and turned quickly, a look of shock and fear on his face, he was trembling at the power of the sound of the voice which he knew so well and feared so much as a young man. When it was angry, it frightened him as much as had his wife's and he had never heard either as furious as this, it had shocked him into immobility. He had also never faced either this man or his wife's anger without his wand to use if necessary, which he felt it was. His few remaining men noticed, they began to mutter amongst themselves, there was no glory or promised riches to be gained here, not when their Lord and King shook at a mere raised voice.

Salazar's magnified voice continued. "You sent a killing curse at a student who I teach, though he is not of my house, your oath to me specifically forbids you from attacking any other I teach." The founder bore down on his one time student, both wand and sword drawn.

Styr saw what he thought was an opportunity to regain the upper hand for the first time since that boy had stood defiantly alone in front of the castle. He instantly decided attack was the best defence, and pulled himself up. "That same oath forbids you from killing me too, my dear mentor." He sneered.

Salazar grinned evilly. "Who said anything about me killing you? No you worthless excuse for a wizard, that's to good for a blood traitor like you, I want to make you suffer for what you have done to your own people."

"Me a blood traitor?" Styr bellowed believing that as his mentor had backed away from killing him, he had gained the upper hand. "Look in a mirror Salazar, you teach anyone regardless of purity, where is your pride, where is your ambition. You are the one that is the traitor, I am simply a product of your teaching, I acted to protect our kind."

Salazar's anger rose. "You murdering scum, you killed our kind instead of protecting them from those who would destroy us. You distorted my teachings, for nothing more than your own ends. You have proved that my teachings and you ability are wasted on you, Lord Utred was correct to snap your wand, you are truly unworthy to wield it. Did you learn nothing, but spells from me, what a waste of my time and your talent." He bore down on his former student, striding ahead of the others he had led through the grounds.

The others were all rushing to catch up with Salazar, a hissing noise announced the arrival of Septimus, who reared up hissing fiercely at Styr, which stopped Salazar in his tracks as his familiar spoke calming words to him.

"Get him!" Styr ordered, but his men backed up, straight into the path of Godric's team.

They turned quickly, drawing swords as they did, seeing what they did Utred swiftly drew his own, as the men ran towards him to attack, the blood fever took over, he charged into the fray, sword swinging, the men in his way falling rapidly. The Creaftas drew their swords, as did Godric's men, they followed Utred into the fight, but were hardly needed, the Blood lust had taken Utred, his sword singing brightly as it seemingly effortlessly sliced into flesh, sinew and bone. Rain began to fall again, mixing with the spray of Northumbrian blood, which was gently washed into the soil beneath their feet. Within a very few minutes, Styr's men were gone, their lifeless bodies laid in the mud, their own blood and spilled innards he stood alone, vulnerable.

"Utred Stop!" Frayja shouted at her husband who was still looking to attack, but with none left attacking him, he had no targets left.

He did instantly, panting, as his friends could finally get near him without risk of death. Frayja ran over and wrapped her arms round him, she felt the disillusioned Brida do the same, both whispering calming words in his ears.

"Good to see he listens to her." Godric whispered under his breath, grinning, thinking there was only one woman calming his student. "Key to a successful marriage for any man that." Both Helga and Rowena hit him, hard, on each arm.

Then there was silence in the aftermath of the short fight, all eyes fell on Styr, who appeared to visibly deflate as he realised he was on his own. The ring of metal hitting a small boulder in the ground, followed by a dull thud as the hilt of his sword hit the ground, indicating Styr's surrender. Realising his campaign was at an end, he surrendered to the justice of his enemy. Godric's phoenix burst into song as the rain began to fall heavily, washing the dried blood of battle from those who had been at the battle and the fresh blood from Utred as he stood before them, sword in hand, his lady next to him, looking every inch the warlord his father had been at his age.

Godric, as the local Lord accepted Styr's surrender in the absence of the King, he remained unaware that the Queen Brida was disillusioned next to Utred and watching the whole thing. Although she should have accepted the surrender, she remained silent, this was Godric's land, not hers so she decided not to interfere. With the fighting now over, the staff who had remained at the castle brought Thorfin over to where they stood, escorted by some of the Centaurs. There would be two trials that day, father and son, together, the son stared at the dead men and blood soaked Scots in disbelief, seeing his father captive, his eyes widened in disbelief. "Father?" He questioned.

Styr looked up and saw his son. "It's over." He said simply.

"It can't be, you are King of Northumbria, our men shall come and rescue us, they have to be some to do that." Thorfin pleaded angrily.

"You fool, there is no one, if there were, do you think I would be here like this with you dragged here? Face it boy, it's done." Styr told him.

"But Hrothweard?"

"Has betrayed us." His father spat.

Thorfin was about to respond defiantly, but was stopped when the still clearly scared clergy were brought from the tree they had been secured to.

Godric conjured chairs for the clergy, who sat nervously on them when invited, not wanting to upset these people who could produce such things from thin air with the wave of a stick, they had seen and experienced too many things they could not explain this day. Godric let them settle, then he spoke to them. "Priests you need not fear us, your lives will be spared this day, you have been chosen to tell the tale. We have no grudge against you, although your church has against us. You will soon be able to report the happenings of today to your Archbishop and how we treated his puppet King, who is in fact one of us. I am Lord of this Land, Utred here is the rightful Lord of Tang and Thwing near Jorvik. According to the privilege granted to us by virtue of being Lords resident here and having won conquest over him, we shall be holding Judgement over Styr for his crimes against ours and his own people as well as those of this and what was his country. We require you to witness that all ha been done according to custom and law to him, do you agree to testify honestly and truthfully about all you see and have seen today to any who ask you about it."

The priests realised they were safe, for now at least, they whispered to each other, then the oldest, who also was quite a fat man spoke up. "My colleagues believe that our Gods law dictates that Judgement cannot be given by man on those he has placed of higher rank in society. Styr is King of Northumbria, or if what was said at the field was true, has been King, placed there by our God. You are not Royal, neither is this supposed Lord of Tang, by our laws therefore, you may not place him on trial until it can be adjudicated by someone of that rank or who is at the least a prince of the church which none of us is. As a Royal Thorfin would be eligible to hold judgement of course, as would the King of this land, if there is one."

"Typical Christian priest tricks, these servants of the nailed God are nothing, but money grabbing untrustworthy worm puke. They want to place the son in judgement of his father, Styr stole the throne, he is nothing more than a Prince at most, unlike me." A female voice, apparently from thin air laughed ironically, the Priests looked round for the speaker before the voice called indignantly. "Oh bugger I forgot about that, Utred, sort this out will you."

The young Lord grinned. "Oh yes, sorry Queen Brida." The warrior said, then removed the Disillusionment charm from her, making her visible to all.

"Majesty!" Godric exclaimed surprised.

"Yes Godric it's me, the best looking one between me and the bearded wonder." She grinned cheekily, then turned to the priests. "I am Brida, Queen of the Picts, a true Royal, as you call it, unlike the Usurper Styr. That means that by your Gods rules I am of equal rank to him, or, in fact, higher as he is only self appointed, and so will stand in Judgement over him with my most beloved Lords Utred and Godric by my side. You will simply witness it, Lord Godric, arrange things please, Lady Frayja will join us also, at least then I am not out numbered by these two hunky men." She ran her hand over Utred's Chest.

The Priests raised no objections, to shocked at seeing her appear out of thin air, a miracle to their eyes, even though she had spoilt it slightly by swearing, issuing insults and then describing two men as she had. Even so it was clear they were over awed by the event, at least for now. As a result, smiling, Godric bowed. "Very well my Queen." Then conjured the four chairs needed upon a dais, which they immediately went to sit on.

"Bring Thorfin before me also, we shall deal with the son before the father I believe." Brida grinned, enjoying herself.

One of the Priests stood. "What is he charged with, he wasn't even at the battle?" He growled, the rotund priest looked at him in askance, shaking his head in disbelief.

"As we told you before the battle, the spawn of my student is charged with the murder of one of my students." Salazar growled back. "After he was first captured and brought here we allowed him some liberty in the grounds, helping those who would have been his fellows had he come here as a student. They would have been his compatriots had his father sent him here as he had originally planned, and although he was not allowed his wand or any other weapons, we gave him the opportunity to prove himself here, a chance he betrayed. He attempted to escape, attacked a younger boy, stole his wand and killed him in cold blood, before he was recaptured. There are numerous witnesses to the event, he was not allowed such freedom again afterwards, he was confined to a cell, guarded day and night."

A girl stepped forward, she was about the same age as Thorfin. Her long hair was tied back with a leather thong, she wore a leather tunic and wool trousers, a Sword and Seax hung from her belt. "I am the sister of his victim, my family request right of vengeance."

"Are you prepared to fulfil the right or should you summon your father my dear?" Brida asked sympathetically.

"I have trained with Lord Utred, Ulf and Erik. My family are happy that I conduct the right and deal with that cowardly snail piss, in their absence, my Queen." The Girl replied, bowing.

Brida looked to Utred, who nodded confirming he was happy the Girl was capable enough with sword and wand to dual with more than a chance of winning, then she looked to Godric, who confirmed that opinion with a nod.

"Very well, our laws allow a duel instead of a trial in these circumstances. Thorfin, as the accused it is your choice, you are capable of either a Wizard or Muggle Duel." Brida proclaimed.

Thorfin looked at the girl who would be his opponent and a smirk spread across his face, she didn't look capable of lifting a sword, never mind fighting him with one. "Muggle duel." He replied confidently, knowing all he had to do was draw blood to win, then as compensation for the treatment these fools had meted out to him, he would take this girl to use for himself.

"Very well, as you are accused of taking a life, as is our custom, you will duel to the death." Brida replied. "Prepare the withies, before us, any who interfere before the duel is over, in any way, shall be put to death by blood eagle."

The girl grinned in predatory manner, whilst Thorfin's face fell in shock, he had not expected this so called Queen to declare that, he knew that given the chance his father would ensure his victory, but doubted he would dare with the promise of such a death. Styr's face had whitened at the announcement as well, he had himself ordered the Blood Eagle be performed, on a Northman when he had usurped his brother. The man had been particularly persistent in advising against his wishes and taken great joy in any misfortune Styr had suffered. It was an act of revenge that he had not witnessed performed, leaving it to one of his men to carry out. Even so he knew it was the most painful and humiliating form of death, but had heard of its agonies and knew that once the torso had been opened, the victim could last days in wet weather, when the rain preserved the moisture of the exposed lungs and innards. The only hope of a quicker demise, after suspension in the air for all to see was sun or consumption by raven or beast, either way, slow or fast, he knew he would not be able to enter Valhalla if he suffered such a torture. It was not a death he would invite, even to save his son. Thorfin was an adult, he had recklessly chosen to duel, Styr had no doubt of his sons guilt, he was pleased he had tried to escape, but he still did not know how his son had allowed himself to be captured, or when. He had obviously lost the men under his command, now he had created a situation where he was beyond his aid, he was on his own. Thorfin's only hope was to defeat this Girl, looking at her, she did not look much of a threat, he thought she wouldn't be a problem, until he saw her face as she prepared, her hard grey eyes bore into Thorfin, they showed no weakness. Styr knew that Thorfin had fought few Muggle duals preferring to let others fight them others fight them for him, he was not as skilled as he should be, preferring to rely on brute force, which had worked for Thorfin in the past. Styr's confidence for his son evaporated, he feared for the life of his son.

A large square area was marked by long, flexible, willow branches, freshly cut from the nearby forest. The girl stepped in on one side, moving to a spot three sword lengths from the boundary, she was holding her sword in one hand easily, Utred knew this girl was excellent with a sword, she had more than a fair chance. Thorfin, was given a sword taken from one of his fathers men, he stepped into the square opposite her, still confident she would be easy pickings. He held his sword in both hands, ready to over power her at his first blow, while she held hers loosely, relaxed and ready. The Creaftas, protected in chain mail, assembled round the square, they would ensure if either of the duellists stepped out of the square, they would be pushed back in without delay, or remove anyone not involved in the combat who stepped into the square. Once all was ready, Brida nodded to Godric. "Begin!" He called.

Thorfin moved instantly, he stepped forward and charged, sword held above his head, directly at her, a blood curdling yell intended to scare her came from his mouth. She waited for him to close on her, then calmly side stepped him and with an almost effortless slash of her sword, she drew first blood, the edge of her sword cut deeply into his arm as he passed. The Girl moved easily to the centre of the square and took up position to wait for him again.

His yell turning to a Howl of pain and frustration, Thorfin turned quickly, his leather shoes digging into the soft turf and charged her again, again she side stepped, this time catching his leg with her blade. This time she did not give him time turn, before she had turned and attacked him again, this time slapping his backside with the flat of her blade. Frustrated and with growing anger at his humiliation at the sword of this girl, He skidded and turned, his sword swinging in a large arc to try to catch her where he thought she would be, she was not where he expected, she had stepped back, standing safely at the edge of the square, smirking at him, to step out of the square purposefully, rather than be forced out or fall out due to momentum, would be to forfeit the duel and instant death. Thorfin saw red, she was goading him with her position and demeanor, he charged again and again she dodged and inflicted injury. He did not change tactic, and neither did she, each time she dodged and he received a new flesh wound, in a different place, he was weakening from loss of blood and his frustration grew. Finally she swung hard as he passed again and almost severed his sword hand as he passed, exhausted by his exertions, disarmed and badly injured, he fell to his knees, his dying hand released the weapon, which fell to the ground before him. She finished him quickly, slicing his throat with the foible of her sword, then pushed him onto his back, away from his weapon. He died before he could even roll over, to crawl back and reach the sword with his other hand.

Once Thorfin had released his last breath, along with the contents of his bladder and bowel, the girl fell to her knees, her eyes filled with tears, her blood stained hair fell over her face for a moment before she threw her head back and screamed to the sky. "It is done Sigmund, it is done." She cried, the duel over, her grief at the loss of her brother, bottled up to fuel her in the duel, released at last.

The silence, broken only by her sobs, held for a moment until a roar of grief and loss broke it. "You murdered my son you bitch."

Styr believed he had an opportunity to disrupt what was going on, he knew his trial was next, he had decided he would not make it easy for them. He had just seen his son completely humiliated, he was not about to allow that to happen to him, either through Duel or trial, he was going to force them to kill him on his terms or let him go. If he died, then at least Salazar would have to avenge him, kill whoever murdered him.

Violently he freed himself from the Scots guards around him, who were flung back to flail on the floor. Before anyone could react he grabbed a sword from one of the men who had been watching the duel and charged like a bull through the Creaftas, towards the grieving girl who seemed oblivious to his blistering approach.

"I'll kill you, Scum." He bellowed as he raised the sword above his head ready to deliver the fatal blow, as she finally looked round her eyes widening in horror.

A figure entered her field of vision from the opposite side, and stood between her and the charging ex King, Styr's eyes widened as his own momentum carried him onto the figures sword, which was held firmly and did not give when he impacted onto the sharp tip. The sword passed straight into his lower abdomen, through him, to emerge through his back. He dropped his own blade behind him where it speared the ground, he gurgled as he fell to his knees, the blade sliced up his gut, he knew he was going to die and looked up to his killers face, knowing he. "You!" He gasped, spitting blood and pinkish froth from his mouth, then grinned. "At least I will have caused your death at the hands of Salazar."

"Yes me, scum, but you are wrong about Sal having to kill me, you and your son's actions ensured that." Styr's killer grasped his sword with both hands as the usurpers face fell in surprise.

The man with the sword grinned and yanked it up. "For my father." Styr flinched as the sword was forced up towards his rib cage. "Killing him gave me the right in law and Magic for revenge."

The warrior yanked it up again, the blade broke through a few ribs. "For my family and friends." Styr's flinch of pain was followed by another yank on the sword, the metal cut into a lung and smashed through some of his ribs, stopping just below the Usurpers heart.

"For those you betrayed, may you rot in hell. I Utred, Lord of Tang curse your memory, die like the scum you are, your name forgotten like your murdering son's who cost you the revenge your mentor would otherwise have been forced to take." Ignoring Styr's gasping pleas for a sword to be placed in his hand, Utred twisted the blade which finally entered Styr's heart, slicing it in half.

The Usurper died, held up by Utred's sword, kneeling as if in supplication, before his killer. Utred withdrew the blade, pushed Styr's body over side ways, then wiped his sword clean on the cloth of Styr's clothes, before replacing it in his belt. Frayja and Brida rushed to his side and stood, one either side, their arms snaking round him. He reached into the neck of his own tunic and pulled out a leather thong with a gold ring on that he had worn there since the day he had come with Godric. His fathers ring, the ring of the Lord of Tang, it had hung on the thong since that day when he had been forced from his home, the day he had arrived here all those years ago. That day he had lost his old life and gained a new one, those events had led to this, he pulled the thong over his head and undid the knot. Taking the ring, he placed it on his finger, where with a flash of his magic, it resized to fit him, Magic itself accepting that his oath of vengeance was fulfilled. The magical house of the Huntrodds was born, it's founder looked up to Valhalla, the rain still falling, washing the sprayed blood of his enemy from his face and shouted. "Father, it is done."

A flash of lightening streaking across the sky, followed by a loud thunder clap was his only response. In the distance a thick column of black smoke rose over the hills, to meet the dark clouds above, the pyres were burning strongly in the valley, where the Battle at the start of this day had raged. The day of death had claimed its last victim, the killing was over at last, at least as far as Utred was concerned. Suddenly he was tired, the battle fury gone, the adrenaline that had fuelled him subsided, all he wanted now was a warm bed with Frayja at his side, but he knew that while the fighting might be finished, the day wasn't. Now they must deal with the aftermath, soon Constantine would be back and knowing him, he would want to celebrate, but there were tasks that must be done first.

The older of the Monks stepped forward, he slowly made his way to the dais where Brida, Frayja and Godric stood, then knelt before the trio, but facing Brida. "Majesty, my King has avoided the administration of proper justice by his actions, attempting to circumvent the disposal of the trial. Our law demands that I offer myself to you to live in exile from my home, never to return, to repay for his dishonourable actions here today."

His companions rose as if to object, but he waved them down, they sat again, reluctantly as Brida looked to Godric.

Godric nodded once more and Brida looked at the abdominous man. "Your offer is accepted, you will live here and serve this School. Your fellows will be returned safely to Jorvik if they wish, but you shall remain in the castle, never to leave." Brida announced.

"I accept and thank you, your Majesty, my Lord." The rotund man rose and made to turn away, but was stopped when he noticed he was glowing, it faded and he was approached by Helga.

"Your name Priest?" She asked.

The priest shrugged. "I am a Friar, not just a priest my Lady. As to my name, Friar will do."

"Very well!" She replied kindly. "You have been bound to this Castle by Magic from this day, never to leave. You shall help with the care of the students, the plants and the healing, you shall reside in my house where you shall learn the truth of our ways. Now go say your goodbyes, your friends will need to know your wishes, I shall collect you in a moment."

He nodded and went over to speak to his companions whilst Helga went to check on the girl who had fought Thorfin, who was still knelt on the ground. Once helped back onto her feet the girl was taken into her friends arms who comforted her as her grief for her brother resumed and overwhelmed her. Helga left her with them as they took her into the castle, then she went and gathered the Friar from his reassured friends. Instructing him to go into the castle, he nodded and made his way up the steps to his new life.

Salazar and Godric slowly made their way to Utred. "You know what this means Utred." Godric said sadly.

Utred nodded. "I know, lets get it done."

"I have made the preparations, Rowena says it will be a bushy haired girl who will have the means to free you all, she's foreseen it all. She will marry a Wesele, befriend a Tigelwotta who will be the chosen one, I have left the spell for her to discover, we have done everything to ensure once the thousand years are done, you will be freed." Godric told him.

"If only you hadn't..." Salazar began, but shrugged. "Oh bugger it, I knew you had to, your honour quite rightly demanded it."

"I know Sal, but you now must fulfil your honour, besides there was no way I would let him attack her either, not while she was grieving." Utred smiled at him.

He looked over at Frayja, who smiled at him. "Come on then, lets get this over and done with." She said.

The four founders led Utred towards the castle, Rowena comforting her daughter, the ghost of the Baron floating next to them.

"What's going on?" Brida asked as she reached out to Frayja.

"I'll tell you soon, Brida, you will need to know, then Utred will need us both." Frayja replied taking the young Queens hand.

"You mean...?"

"Yes Brida, I'll share him with you, as equals." She grinned leading the Queen into the castle, just as the sounds of the horns announcing Constantine's army in the distance, marching towards them reached their ears and the rain began to clear.

* * *

 **Late 20** **th** **Century:**

They had made their way back down the steps from the church yard, diverting to buy Kreacher some of his favourite Kippers from Fortunes, where they were preparing the smokery for the next batch before heading through the town. Stopping again at some of the shops they had looked in earlier, they bought a few gifts for people, especially Victoire, Teddy, Winky and the twins, before heading back over the bridge and up the other side of the harbour. They decided to have an ice cream, so cones were bought, and they ate them as they walked out on the wall of the harbour. Reaching the lighthouse at the half way point they crossed a bridge onto the wooden walkway, past fishermen sat watching rods, out as far as they could before looking back on the town. To the right they could see the cottage they would return to soon, part way along the buildings on the top of the cliff. Fishing and pleasure vessels passed between the two piers that stretched out like protective arms, in and out of the Harbour. The two mismatched light houses, at what would be the elbows of the arms, framing the river and harbours they protected. The Abbey and church, they had just left, distinctive guardians of the town. Smoke rose from the street below the church, indicating that the fresh batch of Herring they had seen half an hour before, were now being smoked into Kippers at Fortunes. They stood, each couple holding each other, looking back at the darkening town as lights began to flicker on, for a few minutes before heading back to climb up the hill to the whale bone arch. They stopped again there, taking in the view, St Mary's was now lit, looking as it usually did, no sign that anything extraordinary had happened there at all. The six knew, this place would always be special and that this would not be the last time they came here. Turning to walk along the cliff top, they were soon back at the cottage, Harry and Ginny led the others through the Floo, back to Grimmauld place where Andromeda and Teddy were waiting.

"All done?" She asked, once they had all stepped from the fire.

"That part yes, they can all rest now." Harry sighed. "I have a task at Hogwarts tomorrow morning as a result though."

He sat and Teddy climbed on his knee.

Andromeda raised an eyebrow in surprise."Really?" She asked.

Hermione pulled the shield out of her beaded bag, Andromeda's eyes grew wide. "So that's what that is, hang on." She fumbled in her own bag for a moment, ignoring the looks of surprise on the others faces. "I was given this as a youngster by Sirius mother, she said it was very old, belonged to a Black who was a friend of the founders." In her hand was a leather thong with a silver version of the emblem on the shield next to a Thor's hammer, just as Utred had worn.

Hermione smiled. "She must have meant Skorri Bleac, he was a student of Gryffindor, part of Utred's group, the Creaftas. From what I have discovered they were pranksters, who helped build the castle. They created the ceiling as a way to tease Slytherin when he tried to punish them, as well as the moving stairs. They were responsible for giving the Castle consciousness, though that was by accident apparently"

"Merlin, Aunt Walburga always said that it was symbolic of the fight between Godric and Salazar. She was convinced that as a Black he would without doubt have been Slytherin's friend. So what is it really?" Andromeda asked.

Ginny grinned. "Godric's badge."

"I thought that was just a lion?"

"So did we all." Harry laughed indicating the shield. "It seems not originally, at least, this is his missing shield, I have to return it to Gryffindor tower and tomorrow seems as good a time as any."

Dumbledore's portrait spoke up. "I shall let Minerva know you are coming Harry, get her to close down the grounds while you do your task. A precautionary measure I am sure, but who knows what effect the restoration the only missing symbol of the founders might have, better to be safe than sorry in this instance I should think."

"Thanks Albus, oh yes did you know the fat lady was Godric's mother by the way." Harry called after the departing figure.

His old mentor stopped in his tracks, slowly turned towards them, looking amazed, shook his head slowly, turned back to face his frame and, still looking stunned, walked out of his picture.

Sirius portrait laughed. "I don't think he is used to finding out things he did not know about Hogwarts, well done Harry. Andy, if you tell mothers portrait what that really is, take me with you to the archive, her face will be a sight I don't want to miss."

Andromeda laughed. "I know what you mean Sirius, it is tempting, but better not, I hear she has been good as gold for them, I don't think disturbing that is a good idea, entertaining, but ill advised."

Teddy was quickly falling asleep on Harry's lap, so Harry gently carried him up to the nursery and put him in the cot, staying with his godson until he was sure the child was sound asleep. Calling Winky he asked the elf to monitor the youngster, then returned down stairs where he found the others unpacking Hermione's bag and showing Andromeda the items Utred had given them, as well as the presents, giving her the one for Teddy. Kreacher popped in with a tray of drinks, his eyes lit up when he saw the Kippers, Winky arrived with a cake and received her gift wide eyed.

As the elves distributed the refreshments, Harry resumed his seat and Hermione lifted the axe he had received from the bag and passed it to him.

"If I were you I would put that on your new office wall Harry." Andromeda grinned. "It will scare the hell out of those trainees, probably your staff as well."

"Are you sure you aren't a secret Marauder Andromeda?" Harry asked grinning.

Further comment was negated when Flame flashed in, singing, a rolled parchment in her claws which she dropped in Andromeda's lap before landing next to Harry.

"Warn her the letter is from beyond the veil, Harry, it is not a joke. It seems Godric thinks the world of Nymphadora and summoned me there to collect this when the gateway was opened to allow the Huntrodds in." The Phoenix told him.

Seeing Andromeda about to open the scroll Harry quickly spoke up. "Hold on Andromeda, Flame tells me it's from Tonks." He said.

Andromeda looked at him in disbelief, then back at the parchment as if it were something about to explode, then back towards him. "But, how? It's not possible Harry?"

Flame sang again, the effect calming Andromeda a little.

"It is only due to the ritual for the Huntrodds family causing the gateway to be opened between the two existences, that enabled me to be summoned by those there with whom I was once bonded in this realm. With my return here, the way is closed again so this is a one way message, none can be taken back there by that route." Harry repeated what Flame had said in the song and Andromeda picked up the parchment with trembling hands.

She unrolled it and had barely read the first line before tears erupted and her hands shook. Harry and Ginny were instantly at her side, their arms round her comfortingly.

"I'm sorry." She sobbed. "It is definitely Nymphadora's hand writing, I didn't get past the greeting. I'm so sorry, I just can't, would you read it for me please Harry?"

"Of course I will, if you are sure you want me to?" He replied.

Andromeda nodded. "Apart from Teddy, oh and the Malfoy's I suppose, you and Ginny are all the family I have left Harry, at least I think of you as if you two were my son and daughter. There are none in this room I mind hearing it in the least, go ahead and read it, please Harry." She pleaded gratefully.

Nodding numbly, he gently took the parchment from her hand and opened it.

"Wotcher mum, Teddy and the rest of you." Harry read. "I know this is a shock, I am told that this isn't strictly allowed, but Godric offered so I took the opportunity. He's not one for really worrying about bending the rules if the opportunity arises, mind you neither are any of the founders when it comes to it. It's really weird being here, yet being able to see you guys and how you are doing when we want to. Don't worry we can't sit here watching you all the time, it's more like dreaming really, but we aren't sat here watching absolutely everything you guys do. There is so much I want to tell you, but can't, still I needed to write this for you. I'm guessing that mum might ask you to read this for her Harry, so this bit is for you and Ginny, first the old dog loves what you have done to the place, as do we all, surprisingly that includes Aunt Walburga, who actually said she wishes she had thought of brightening up the house. James and Lily send their love, they are so proud of everything you have done and pleased you helped Petunia finally get over her hang ups enough to get out of that marriage. They say they have portraits in their main house, waiting for you to visit."

Harry paused, gathering himself before continuing.

"Mum, I hope you have calmed a little by now, I have some things to tell you after all. Remus and I are so pleased with how you are doing with Teddy, your choice of Godmother is spot on by the way, it looks like he is doing well with all of you. We and Dad are pleased you are not alone, and so happy that you both are part of Harry and Ginny's family. We miss you of course, just as you do us, but please live life mum, don't let memories of us three hold you back we want you to be happy. The reason I wanted to send this though, mum, is to tell you to empty your hand bag. Before I left to follow Remus that day I put something for Teddy in there, I had hoped you would see it if anything happened to us, but hey, I should have known you would never get to the bottom of it without prompting. Mum I know you will look after Teddy and I am sorry we are not there for you both, but we couldn't sit idly by, we had to help get shot of old mouldy shorts. I have to go in a minute, old Godric's phoenix is here for this and the old fella is getting excited about greeting his old student from back then. Honestly you wouldn't believe he was a founder, he gets so excited about things, there is no wonder Sirius, James and Remus get on with him and Salazar so well. I guess this student of his they have been waiting for will be just as much of a prankster from the stories he tells, apparently the stairs at Hogwarts move and have traps in them because of this guy and his friends. Any way we love you all and will see you when you get here, whenever that will be. Teddy you be good for grandma, Uncle Harry and Aunty Ginny, know that Uncle George will teach you how to prank everyone at school and has some of the best ways of keeping out of trouble too. We love you all. Tonks, Remus and Ted, oh and Godric too, he says."

There was silence as Harry finished the letter, they all needed to digest its contents. It was, therefore, a bit of a shock when Andromeda, after a few minutes, suddenly grabbed her hand bag and tipped it out on the coffee table. The amount of things that came out of it, to pile on the table, or roll off it in some cases, was incredible.

"Blimey, how much stuff? No wonder you couldn't find it, what ever it is. I didn't know you could get magical hand bags." Dudley exclaimed.

"You can, but Ted got me this a few years ago, from a Muggle shop called Wool Words or something, it's got no magical properties at all." Andromeda said distractedly.

Dudley's eyes widened at her statement. "Remind me never to challenge you to an arm wrestling contest, in that case." He chuckled.

Andromeda was too busy sifting through the items from the bag to notice, examining each one before placing it back in the bag, until she found something she knew she had not put in it. "Here it is. Oh my, Nymphadora, how wonderful." She joyfully exclaimed holding up what looked like a galleon, but it was embossed with a picture of Remus and Tonks on one side. Andromeda turned it over, they could see the other side was neatly engraved with Teddy's name and date of birth. "It's a memory token." She added, seeing the curious expression the others displayed.

"Sorry, but a what?" Dudley asked, puzzled.

Andromeda chuckled. "Don't apologise Dudley, it's not a commonly used artefact these days, I would be surprised if even Maria, Ginny or Ron have seen one before."

The three indicated they had not, so Andromeda continued her explanation.

" At one time these were frequently given by parents to children or by couples to each other if they were parting for some reason, one of them working away for some time for example. Basically this coin has message for Teddy, from Dora and Remus magically embedded in it, which he will be able to view whenever he likes as he grows up, though no one else will be able to see it unless he allows it. I should have known they would not leave him with no memory of them, they knew the danger of going to Hogwarts, the pain you felt because you had nothing of James and Lily's Harry. This is so Teddy does not have to have that pain, it is so like those two to have left something like this for him." She turned to the Phoenix. "Thank you Flame, Dora was right, Teddy could have been married with children of his own at Hogwarts before I emptied that bag out. I really am grateful to you." She conjured a small box, placed the coin in it then closed it firmly. "Harry, would you keep this safe for him please."

Harry nodded. "Of course, it shall go in the bureau, once again it can keep something safe, but you should be the one to give it to him when the time comes."

"Oh I will Harry, but just in case anything happens, we both know it is safe and there for him, he shall have it the first time he asks about them as far as I am concerned." She replied.

* * *

It was soon after a delicious breakfast, served by Kreacher and Winky the following morning, that Maria led Dudley through the busy streets of Muggle London to the Leaky Cauldron. Tom greeted the couple cheerily, although they refused his offer of breakfast, instead they hurried through the bar into the yard and into Diagon Alley. It was the first time they had visited the street as a couple on their own and they were going to enjoy every moment, besides Maria was going to introduce Dudley to someone very important to her. Although they had been to the Alley before, that had been with others, it somehow felt special this time, like the first time they had seen it. They walked happily arm in arm down the street taking in the sights and window shopping, she admiring the clothes on display in Glad Rags and Madam Malkin's, he preferring the Magical Menagerie and Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment, but both enjoying looking round the Apothecary and Flourish and Blotts. Naturally they visited Fortescue's ice cream parlour and Dudley took the chance to admire the brooms in Quality Quidditch Supplies, they ambled down the busy street, taking their time on their way to the bank. They called in at Weasley's of course and chatted a while with George, then called in at Swiftshot's to have their portrait taken ready to collect after they had visited their vaults.

Dudley loved the cart journey to his vault, it was his first experience of what he described as the ultimate coaster ride, then had to explain what a coaster ride was. He promised to take Maria on a trip to one or more Muggle theme parks to experience the roller coasters and rides, although he felt they were not a patch on this ride. When they reached his vault, he withdrew plenty of money for their needs, Maria doing the same at hers, then he enjoyed the ride back to the surface. Leaving the Bank they collected the pictures and had a large copy sent to their new cottage in Hogsmeade. They made their way back up the alley calling in at a few shops for supplies, until they reached Ollivander's wand shop. Maria pushed open the door, setting the bell tingling, announcing their arrival.

The shop was empty as they entered, Dudley suddenly feeling the need to whisper as if on hallowed ground, or in a library, the atmosphere in the room was reverential, he felt it was an ambience deliberately cultivated to add to the mystery and magic of wands. The door behind them closed and Dudley jumped in surprise, laughing Maria called out, loudly down a corridor between the shelves behind the counter. "Hi Uncle Olli, it's me Maria, I've brought someone for you to meet."

There was the sound of a stool scraping on the floor at the far end of the passageway, followed a moment later by an elderly figure appearing. "Maria my dear, it is good to see you and this must be young Dudley, it's good to meet you at last young man."

Maria hugged the old man. "Yes Uncle, this is Dudley. Dudley this is my Uncle Olli, well Great Uncle really and his first name isn't Olli, but it's been my name for him since I was little and it has stuck ever since."

Dudley chuckled, used to Maria rambling occasionally. "It's good to meet you Sir." He said.

Ollivander waved his hand dismissively. "Sir? No my boy not so formal if you please, if Maria will let you, you have my permission to call me Uncle Olli as she does, you are her young man after all."

"Of course you can Dud." Maria grinned. "It will surprise mum to say the least."

"Ah, some good will come of it then." Ollivander chuckled. " Now what can I do for you, or is this a social call?"

"Bit of both really, Uncle Olli." Maria replied. "Dudley needs a wand, but I always love coming here to see you and the wands, you know that."

"Yes dear I do." Ollivander smiled, then looked puzzled. "You need a wand Dudley? I thought Maria's father said you were a Muggle."

Dudley sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "I am, or was, or something. It's a long story really I'm afraid."

Ollivander nodded. "In that case let's go into the back and get a drink, I'll just close up the shop. It isn't busy today anyway, too soon for the Hogwarts rush of course. I find it much nicer to be undisturbed with a drink and perhaps a bite to eat if I can find something for us all, when it comes to long stories, it is almost lunchtime anyway."

He turned the sign in the window and locked the door, then led them into his living room at the other end of the corridor, behind the multitude of shelves full of boxes containing wands.

Maria sat, gesturing for Dud to join her on the small sofa, her Uncle busied himself making a pot of tea and some sandwiches for them all, before taking a seat in an armchair. "Just ham and tomato I'm afraid, I have some cake for after, dig in." He said, smiling as the two did, before he helped himself. "Now, if Dudley really is a Muggle, tell me why does he need a wand?"

Maria took a sip of her tea before answering. "We all thought he was a Muggle, but yesterday we learnt he has a small, weak, magical core, stronger than a squib, but not enough to go to Hogwarts."

There was a noise from upstairs, Maria looked up puzzled, Ollivander smiled. "Don't worry that's just Xeno Lovegood, getting the next Quibbler together upstairs, Luna is getting back for a holiday soon, so he wants to get it done before she does. Anyway, come on, tell me how you found this out, it is rare that someone as you describe enters our world, they are most often simply regarded as squibs, although it is possible that a wand might chose them."

Between them it took Dudley and Maria twenty minutes to tell him about the events of the day before. When they finished he stood, nodded thoughtfully and went to make a fresh pot of tea. Returning with the pot, he refreshed their drinks, sat then looking at Maria, he asked. "Now my dear, when are you going to come and work for me full time? You know all my stock as well as I and you have a natural talent with making wands, not to mention a new theatre to rival my own when selling them that really is worth sharing."

She smiled. "Oh Uncle, maybe once we have children for you to spoil while you watch me, or maybe sooner, but for now I am fine at the ministry." Turning to Dudley she explained. "Uncle Olli taught me how to make wands as soon as I could safely handle the tools and elements needed under supervision, he wants me to take over the shop when he retires, which he already should have, especially after he was kidnapped during the war."

"Xeno and Luna helped me get over all that, as did you my dear, I'm good for a while yet, at least until you decide to join me. Besides, if he has some magic, then we must see if Dudley here can pick up the art as well, I sense he will. Your Mother told me about the cottage you have moved into in Hogsmeade, you could always open a branch there, it would be like us returning home in a way. Your ancestors were there, making wands, when the school was built you know, it would be good to have a shop there again." Ollivander mused.

Maria chuckled recognising that her Uncle was teasing her. "Which brings us back to the matter of Dudley's wand Uncle. According to the Lady Frayja Huntrodds the wand that is waiting for him was made in her time, by Toki."

"Indeed, I recall you saying that in your story my dear." He agreed. "Now have you had enough sandwiches to eat, I can always make more, or would you like some cake? I know I have some somewhere, one of your mothers fruit ones I believe, if we are lucky, or perhaps there will be some of her cherry cake, the one with pink icing that she says is always good for ones' humour."

They both indicated that they had indeed had eaten enough sandwiches, they declined the cake and still had tea in their mugs.

"Very well." Ollivander smiled. "I apologise, Dudley, I am only delaying for purely selfish reasons, please excuse this old man's idiosyncrasies. I only do this in order to savour the moment, normally I can have fun with a totally unnecessary tape measure, then bring a number of wands for my customers to try, as I say all pure theatre of course. The moment they enter the shop, the appropriate wand begins to sing to me, but I enjoy putting on a show, makes them feel they have their monies worth and entertains me no end as they believe my games. In your case however I am unable to play my games, you, Maria and I already know my ancestors final wand to be claimed, is yours."

"I'm sorry, but all I know is from Harry, he says the wand chooses the wizard." Dudley replied.

Ollivander nodded. "Indeed it does Dudley, though my usual game is to allow a customer to test other wands before selecting the one that I know calls to them. A totally unnecessary piece of theatre on my part, but it adds to the rite of passage getting ones first wand has become. In Toki's day wands were often custom made, though a wand maker would keep a stock as well, knowing that one day the wizard or witch for it would arrive. Toki must have known Lord Utred, this wand was made at about that time, it is the oldest still in the shop, made along with others that went in turn to their witch or wizard. Your wand is a special piece, it has been calling to you since you arrived, now it is time you claimed it."

"So how do I do that?" Dudley asked, intrigued.

"Raise your hand and concentrate on summoning your wand to it."

Dudley did as Mr Ollivander instructed, within moments a wand flew into his hand, landing in it with a smack. He wrapped his fingers round it and felt a warm glow. "Wow!" He gasped.

Maria looked at her Uncle happily, he nodded. "Yes that is Toki's wand. Now my dear what date shall we open the Hogsmeade branch and begin Dudley's training?" He smiled.

They stayed another hour, Dudley and Mr. Ollivander getting to know each other. The old man taking time to demonstrate his art to him and have Dudley start to make his first wand. When they left, they promised to return soon, Maria pleased that Dudley and her Great Uncle had got on so well.

It was mid morning when Ginny and Harry, with shield safely shrunk and placed in his pocket, were ready for Flame to transport them to the edge of Hogsmeade. They had not wanted to risk the shield unprotected through the Floo or Apparition, it had been fine in the protective charms that were on Hermione's bag, but they decided that as they had the option it was safer this way. Flame had been glad to take them, there had not been much for the Phoenix to do, except tease Tiberius of course. Within a second of disappearing from the living room, they appeared, hidden, in the trees beside road to Hogwarts from the village, only a couple of hundred yards from the gates. Flame flew high above them, the couple made their way the short distance to the road, then began to walk the short distance along it to the familiar gates, a few people were walking back towards the village.

"It's no good going up there mate, the grounds are closed until later today for some reason." One wizard told them absently, not looking up, as he lead his family back to the village. "Best go back to the village, there's plenty to see there, come back later." He hadn't noticed who he was talking to, though his children, who were not yet Hogwarts age, had recognised the couple and stared wide eyed as Harry grinned, winked and put his finger to his lips in a keep it quiet move to the youngsters, who giggled nodding, as they passed.

"Thanks, for the warning." Harry called and the man grunted, still not looking up as his children tried to suppress their laughter.

They waited until the family had disappeared, round the curve, seeing they were now alone they approached the gates, which swung open to admit them. They quickly walked through them and up the driveway, hearing the gates close behind them.

" 'ello you two, Minerva told us yer were comin', glad ter see t' gates still let yer in." Hagrid greeted as he approached them across the lawns.

Turning, Harry returned the greeting. "Hi Hagrid, have you been sent to meet us?" He laughed, as Flame settled on his shoulder.

Hagrid chuckled. "Aye yer could say tha'."

"Where's Grawp? It's not like him to be out of sight when he hasn't seen Harry for a few days." Ginny asked smiling.

A sudden noise from the forest preceded the sight of hundreds of birds taking to panicked flight, twittering in alarm, the rustling of their rapidly beating wings sounding like waves over a shingle shore. A deep laugh followed as more trees shook and birds to flight.

Ginny laughed. "Ah, he's in the forest, sounds like he's having fun, though I am not sure those birds would agree."

Grawps booming laugh again rolled over the grounds to reach them, they all smiled, the loud but childlike laugh was infectious and welcome.

"Aye, 'e's 'elpin the Centaurs agin, 'e loves it runin' roun' while t' young uns chase 'im." Hagrid grinned. "Bane's got 'em learnin' ter 'unt, reckons if they can't catch Grawpy they won't catch owt, E's 'avin' a grand ole time wi' 'em."

The sounds of crashing followed by fleeing wildlife increased from the forest, as did the deep rumble of Grawps laughter, which invariably followed each new explosion of birds from the canopy.

"Certainly sounds like he's having fun with them." Harry laughed as a louder crash than before was heard, a precursor to an even louder series of laughs.

"Aye, sounds like they've caught 'im now though." Hagrid Grinned. "He'll be 'ere in a minute if they 'ave."

Sure enough, moments later a still laughing Grawp emerged from the trees, his arm pushing apart the canopy before him. He was quickly followed by a gaggle of young Centaurs, trotting excitedly round his feet. Last to emerge, walking sedately behind the group smiling, was Bane, the chief of the Hogwarts herd. The group crossed the lawns towards them which, in the absence of students gathering them, were covered with Daisy's and Buttercups. Insects and pollen rising in clouds, with each step the group took as they approached.

"Ah, Mr and Mrs. Potter, you have returned earlier than expected." Bane greeted them, the youngsters instantly calmed and looked at the couple as their elder continued. "It is good to see you both, I take it by your presence that young Mrs. Weasley has fulfilled her destiny?"

Harry nodded. "She has Bane, just yesterday in fact. As a result, we have Gryffindor's shield with us, we must return it to its proper place today, could you let everyone in the grounds who needs to know, know. We are not sure what will happen when we do, if anything at all."

The Centaur smiled. "That is good, I shall take the youngsters home in that case and warn the tribe to watch for the signs that it is done." The Centaur then turned to Grawp. "My thanks once again for your help Grawp, we shall see you again tomorrow, if you are happy to continue."

Nodding happily, Grawp waved as the young Centaurs also thanked him, then followed Bane back into the forest.

"C'mon then Grawpy." Said Hagrid as the last Centaur disappeared. "We'd best get on, work to do. Are yer two comin' ter see Bucky later?"

"Of course we shall, Hagrid." Ginny smiled. "We couldn't come here and not see him after all, could we? Keep him in for now though, it wouldn't do for him to be flying while we do this, as Harry says, we don't know what may happen."

"Aye, I guess tha's right there, see yer both later, then." Hagrid agreed, then he and Grawp, turned and headed towards the lake, Harry and Ginny headed up to the castle, Flame still sat serenely on Harry's shoulder.

Minerva and Argus Filch were waiting for them in the entrance hall, the Headmistress grinned as they entered.

"Hello you two, can't stay away even for a break can you?" She greeted cheerily.

"Hello Minerva, seems that way doesn't it." Harry replied smiling, then turned to the care taker, who was holding a very long ladder. "Morning Argus, are you cleaning the windows today?"

"Morning professors, no, this is to help you if needed." He growled in as friendly and respectful manner as the gruff man got.

Minerva nodded once. "Yes we weren't sure what might be needed, we are the only ones in the castle today, Hagrid and Grawp in the grounds. I thought it best be prepared for any eventuality, so asked the staff to be away until we reopen the grounds, I thought it best to err on the side of caution in this and asked Argus to prepare anything he thought might be useful in getting the shield back into place."

Harry looked at Ginny, they had a silent conversation between themselves, then turned back to them. "We think it would certainly have been a good idea in the normal course of matters, however before you lug the ladder all the way to Gryffindor tower Argus, I'm afraid in this instance neither of us believe it would work. You see the shield is very large, we are sure it is too awkward for one person to lug up a ladder for one thing and both of us believe that it is probable that some form of magical effect is likely when it's put back where it belongs. We don't know exactly what that could be, but it will probably not be a good idea that anyone be that close to it when that happens."

"Neither of us want you getting hurt Argus." Ginny added kindly. "But, thank you for fetching it and thinking of it too."

The caretaker grunted and shrugged. "Perhaps you are right, it will save taking it up and down the stairs too."

"Will you come up to the common room with us though Argus?" Ginny asked. "Watch it being put back in place?"

"No, it's not my place professor." He said. "I reckon it's for you magical folk, not the likes of me."

He turned to put the ladder away, but Harry stopped him. "That's rubbish Argus, of course it's your place, you are as much a part of Hogwarts as anyone else is."

"Of course you are, but we also need to know where you are, just in case whatever happens affects you." Ginny soothed.

"Well if you think it will be all right." He repeated as he fed the ladder back through his office door. "I'll leave Mrs. Norris here though, in the office, if she gets in the common room, getting her out again is the problem, she loves that place for some reason."

He shut his office door and they set off up the stairs, walking through the empty corridors, their footsteps echoing from the walls. Even the moving staircase's behaved, providing them a swift route to the Gryffindor corridor. As they topped the stairs, Harry reached in to his pocket and pulled out a small disk waving a hand over it, it grew to it's full size.

Minerva gasped. "I never thought to see it."

"And my spirit never thought he would have to hide it Minerva." A voice said from behind them.

"Lord Utred!" Ginny exclaimed. "I always wondered who you were, now I know."

She smiled at the portrait, as Minerva shook her head in disbelief. "I don't believe it, does Hermione know you are here?"

"Perhaps she does by now." The portrait grinned. "Young Dursley and Maria were here on the last day of term, so they may have told her by now."

"You could have told me." Minerva sighed. "All those years as head of house and not a word from you. Not even the portraits would say who you were, did anyone at all know?"

"My mentors mother over there did and a couple of the Ghosts, including those of any I knew in life, but no, not even the headmasters knew, apart from my own successor as head of course and he wasn't going to tell anyone." The portrait laughed. "Over the years some students have discovered me, though they only knew me as Headmaster, not by name

"You should be with the other headmasters in my office though." Minerva said thoughtfully.

The portrait looked horrified. "Don't you dare, I am quite happy in the corridors for now thank you. There were very few who followed on after me who weren't either as dull as Salazar's dress sense, or in it as a way of building their own egos. I'd much rather see the antic's of the students, much more fun."

Harry grinned. "Especially the ones like the Marauders, Fred and George I expect."

"Of course Lord Potter, they were among the most entertaining, though you, Mr. Weasley and my descendant put on a good show as well, if more perilous than they. Now I believe it is time that you go to show Godric's mum what you are returning, I bet she hasn't been as happy as you will make her since she became guardian." The portrait told them. "She longs to see his badge restored, she used to hang beneath it, until his tower needed a guardian portrait. Who knows, one day she may not be needed there again, if the school returned to the original principles."

"She is not the only one excited to see it my Lord." The group turned ton see the Fat Friar and Bloody Barron approaching floating either side of the Grey Lady. "It will be wonderful to have his badge restored. Good man was Godric, always treated me with kindness after I chose exile here after Styr showed his true colours and avoided justice for his crimes. Godric may have been pagan, but I shan't hold that against him, he showed my beliefs respect, even though he didn't believe them." The Friar added

"Nor I, it is as significant as that day, the one when I died, my Helena saw me die, the Friars' life improved and yours became cursed my Lord." The Baron observed.

The Fat Friar smiled. "Ah indeed I almost forgot the day you died was also the same day I gave up monastic life, in compensation for the cowardice of my then King. Second best occurrence of my existence."

"What was your best then Friar." Utred's portrait asked.

"Oh that would be when I realised my death was not the end for me, thanks to the Queen Brida commanding that I never leave, the magic of Hogwarts took that literally." The Friar replied happily.

A none too discrete cough came from the end of the corridor, they looked up to see the Fat Lady trying, vainly, to look innocent.

"I guess we had best not keep her waiting any longer." Ginny grinned.

Harry held on to the shield. "Shall we see you again later Utred?"

"Aye Lad, I'm looking forward to that other school of yours, I'll pop down and see you. The founders pictures and ones of us Creaftas are in that wing, I'll be sure to visit it." The portrait called.

"Oi, Utred, don't forget the one of both your ladies and that old rogue Constantine too." The Bloody Baron grinned. "He'll love it having people to talk to again."

"You mean show off to and tease don't you." Utred's picture replied cheerfully.

Leaving the little noticed portrait, They all moved down the corridor towards the Fat Lady

She grinned. "That's better, I wondered how long he would keep you." She then turned to the group, waiting in front of her. "I am so pleased you are the one to restore my sons shield, Harry at last his tower and school will be restored. I hoped it would be you, as his and my heir."

"Thank you my Lady Gryffindor, may we enter?" Harry smiled, indicating where she hid the way in.

"What? Oh yes of course my dear, my pleasure." She gushed and swung open to reveal the familiar entrance to her son's tower.

The living climbed through the entrance hole, while the ghosts floated after them and entered the familiar common room, all was quiet, neat and tidy, evidently the house elves had already cleaned the room in readiness for the next term. They assembled round the fireplace and Ginny looked round. "There's someone missing." She observed, then looked at Harry. "They ought to be given the chance to be here Harry."

"They?" Minerva asked.

"Yes!" Harry replied. "Peeves is the merged spirits of all the Creaftas children who died too early, the ones that never made it through to childhood. They chose to stay together here, rather than go with their father as individuals."

"Well I never knew that." Minerva sighed.

Harry nodded. "Ginny is right, the Creaftas children who had no chance of life should be here. They did come to Whitby yesterday, after the other spirits arrived."

"Doesn't that mean that Peeves has gone too?" Argus asked.

Ginny shook her head. "No, they decided not to go with his father."

The Grey Lady smiled. "You remind me why I am pleased that I helped you find my mothers Diadem, despite my misgivings at first. Harry, you truly are a man with a good heart, call them please."

The Friar bounced happily. "Oh I am so glad you know who they really are, just call Harry, they will come."

"Argus, do not worry, I am sure they will behave." The Bloody Baron added.

"I'm not worried about that, not this time." Argus said gruffly. "No, he should be here regardless of my feelings."

Harry nodded. "Peeves, could you come here please." With a pop the Poltergeist arrived, looking a little more subdued than usual. "Hello Peeves, after yesterday we are here to return Gryffindor's shield to its proper place and we thought you should be here to see it happen, if you want to of course."

Peeves seemed to perk up, he straightened proudly. "Thank you, Lord Potter, we would like to see it restored as our parents were present when it was first placed."

"Right, let's get this done and make the castle complete again." Harry said and looked up the full height of the room.

There, high above the fire place, was the circular area marked by a stone border where the shield belonged and was to be returned. He propped the shield up against the wall next to the fire place and stood back. Without a word or a wand he used his hands to levitate the ancient shield, slowly, gently, carefully ensuring its emblem remained upright, preventing the shield from spinning so it faced the room as it rose. The ghosts and Peeves drifted up with it, until it hovered in front of its place, they told Harry it was high enough then descended. Steadily he backed the shield the few inches back, towards its position, adjusting it remained aligned as it slowly edged towards its place. The concentration on his face, as he carefully ensured it slotted precisely back into place within the recessed stone ring built to secure it, was clear and beads of sweat glistened on his forehead.

The shield edged slowly back until, the moment the shield bumped gently into it's correct place, the stone border glowed briefly. There was a hissing noise and Harry felt the weight of the shield lift from his magic, he dropped his arms and sat back on the sofa behind him, his eyes not leaving the shield, now back where it belonged.

The hissing ended with a thud, the stones had returned to their normal hue and for a moment nothing more happened, then three golden ribbons of brilliant light erupted from the Shields boss and shot out through the portrait hole. Seconds later three more ribbons flew back in through the entrance, one silver, one yellow, the other blue, one from each house. The instant the flowing, undulating ribbons touched the boss in the centre of the shield the whole shield erupted with a multitude of red, gold and white ribbons flying out through every window and door in the tower, to head both through the corridors and out into the grounds.

Hagrid and Grawp, having made sure Buckbeak was secure in his stable and the owls safe in their tower, were working close to the banks of the lake. Grawp suddenly stopped his task and stared at the castle, Hagrid turned to look at what had caught his brothers attention, his eyes widened at the sight. The building was glowing, he ran a few steps towards it, but stopped as ribbons of light erupted from Gryffindor tower, to fly in what seemed like random patterns through the air. They wrapped themselves around and through the building, then headed for the boundaries of the school. The ribbons split into hundreds, then thousands of threads, connecting to the boundary like a web of tendrils, visibly strengthening the wards, which began to glow with power, exposing dark bands stretching over and through the grounds as well as threading into and around the castle itself. The red, white and golden ribbons began attaching themselves to the dark bands, creeping along them. Slowly at first, then faster, as more and more of the myriad of coloured ribbons attached to the dark ribbons devouring the black bands at a steadily increasing speed.

The coloured ribbons replaced the dark ones, running into the ground and lake, following the courses of the black bands through the castle and environs, reducing them, until only one, very broad, black band entwined in a complex knot over and through the castle, remained. Hagrid and Grawp watched in stunned awe, gaping as every coloured band of light, reached and attached itself to the single, thick black one, remaining. For quite a while there seemed to be a fight between coloured and dark for dominance. The two brothers were rooted to the spot where they stood as the battle between the ribbons was fought. The white stone of the tall memorial glowed, the thin line of jet entwining it emitting a deep purple light, that blasted into the darkness near it viciously, sending a plethora of black and purple sparks into the air. For a time it seemed there was no effect on the dark belt, it was a stalemate that neither seemed able to break. Then gradually, slowly, very slowly, the coloured strands began to over whelm it. Steadily the power of the black band of dark magic, entwined as it was in the very fabric of the castle, was gradually eaten away by the coloured bands which rippled as they inexorably gathered pace, consuming their prey as surely as they had the rest of the dark bands, the black replaced by the colours. As the darkness was consumed, the ribbons again multiplied and strands began to disperse through more of the castle, then up to the glowing dome above, recharging it fully and pushing its boundaries out to cover the village and lands between.

The black band withered as it was devoured, angrily reluctant to release its hold on the school and grounds. It tightened its hold on the stones of the walls as it was attacked, wrapping itself over them, reacting as if alive and battling for survival even though it was steadily being devoured. The narrow ribbons of light that were slowly following the darkness along its course, gaining strength and intent on destroying the writhing, pulsating darkness, spread further as the other weakened. The length of black ribbon was shortening, but as it did, what was left seemed determined to survive, it managed to slow its demise, though not stop it. Then quite suddenly a critical point seemed to be reached, with a burst, the coloured ribbons overwhelmed the dark completely and there was no black left. The thinner, victorious ribbons all became gilt and exploded at the point they had destroyed the last of the dark. The thousands of now golden threads merged into five distinct broad bands, four charged into the ground whilst the other wrapped itself round the castle. Minutes later the four returned, shooting into the sky where they were joined by the fifth, morphing to form shapes. A gilded eagle now flew over the area watching for enemy, a golden snake wrapped itself protectively round the boundary. A matching coloured badger, lion and Griffon stood sentinel within the boundaries of the dome formed by the glowing wards, each ready to pounce should they be required to protect the area, the creatures linked by glowing golden threads.

Suddenly, with a bright flash, the wards shone platinum, then became invisible again, sending shafts of light back to Gryffindor Tower, where this had all started. The glowing animal shapes began circling, slowly gathering speed, binding the protection they had brought to the school, village and lands. Restoring stone walls, timbers and plaster, renewing the grounds and reviving ancient protections of blood and sacrifice put in place when the castle was built. An area in front of the entrance steps glowed releasing smoke and flame as the wards were renewed. The shapes of a boar and large fish just discernible in the smoke of the fire before it and the flames sank back into the ground, leaving nothing to show it had been there at all.

Even the water of the lake was effected as the beasts, now a blur of light, passed over and around it, the entire surface seemed to churn and swirl as they sped past. After a few minutes the animals stopped, though the vortex they created continued. Each of the beasts returned to the area of the castle where the house they represented was, The snake burrowed into the grounds beside the lake, the badger and eagle headed into the castle and the lion and Griffon returning to the tower were the effect had begun. All Gryffindor badges within the school now showing both, as did the newly restored shield.

The vortex began to die, it's diameter closing, becoming more focused as it moved over the ground. The two brothers barely kept their feet as it passed over them. Soon it had shrunk from the land, though it lingered over the water of the lake, closing around it alone, before further contracting to a small area of water close to the forest. Now a tornado, the wind created a spout of water, shooting into the air, syphoning the water high over the trees, creating a thick fog, obscuring even the trees from view. Then all of a sudden, the tempest ceased completely, sending a magical shock wave which spread quickly out to disappear over the horizon. The water crashed down into the lake, creating a large wave that spread over its surface, but the fog of finer droplets fell more slowly, the fog remained, though thinned, revealing a large dark shape, which quickly cut through it. A large long ship, complete with beasts head on its prow and tail at the stern, timbers blackened by age and water emerged from the mist, either side of the sleek lines of it's hull, two smaller boats were floating alongside. Water poured from the sides of all three, as the timbers dried and renewed before pristine square sails un furled and filled in the breeze. The largest ship leading the small flotilla, across the now calm sun kissed water, all three leaving small ripples in their wake, which spread out behind them. Their timbers were now clean and completely renewed as they rose in the water gently, the weight of water and silt lightening as both continued to flow from the vessels hulls. The three craft beached themselves in the shallows close to the shore next to Hagrid's hut, now looking brand new with sails, now loose, flapping in the wind, mast ropes straining and bright coloured shields on their sides.

The giant and half giant gaped as things settled, they were silent for a moment, then Hagrid sprang into action. Sending Grawp to check the grounds and creatures in the forest, he charged into the castle, determined to ensure the only human occupants of the castle, who he knew to be in Gryffindor tower, were safe.

* * *

The rough seas battered the rocks of the island mercilessly, the north sea was being stirred by a strong wind and heavy tide this day, despite the clear blue sky's above. As far as the occupants of the castle at one end of the rocky out crop were concerned, this was not unusual, it made very little difference to most of them anyway. The prison had occupied its place on the barren island for a millennium, built with the very rock that had formed the surrounding land, taken from the beaches and cliffs. It had once been surrounded by a palisade of wood, tents had sheltered the first prisoners beneath charms against the storms, they had tended the fertile soil within, growing crops to supplement their diet. As the Island had reduced in size and the castle grown, eventually the soil was no longer needed as the prison was complete, so it was abandoned and became wild. The once productive, fertile part of the island was abandoned, no one had set foot on it for centuries. Then when the Dementors had been brought, their presence killed the last of the vegetation, allowing the wind and sea to erode the soil, once held by the plants roots, until it was completely gone and only barren rock remained

The Dementors had been a threat on the main land since they had spread from their marshes, the Wizards managed to defeat them eventually, taking control using the Patronus charm. The remaining Dementors had agreed to leave and guard the prison, having been promised a constant supply of criminals to feed from and the occasional soul of the condemned. They had willingly chosen captive victims over wandering the country, feeding when they could, but soon came to realise they had lost more than they gained. By then though, they were trapped, prisoners as much as those they fed from, they had no way out, trapped by what they had agreed to do to avoid eradication by the wizards. They had jumped at the opportunity for freedom, when offered by the one with the broken soul, helped by some wizards, they had escaped the island. They had been promised much by the soulless one, but it had come to nothing once he was gone. After he was destroyed they had dispersed, once more spread across the country, no one knew where they all were.

Since then the ministry guards that had been assigned to the prison had noticed that small pockets of sand, close to the landing, had clumps of grass beginning to sprout from them. They had looked out of the windows in their quarters this spring to see green hints amongst the black rock, now in mid summer, the amount of clumps of wind blown, spray battered grass was growing, a few glaucous leaved shoots were beginning to appear as well. The tough plants were resisting the elements, the feathery seed heads of the grasses bowing in the wind, Azkaban Island was showing signs of life, of rejuvenation. The Guards now often braved the elements to check on the plants, which trapped more of the sand blown in, or carried on the waves, they noticed the patches in the rocks were slowly growing. None had yet examined the patches beyond the reach of the path that led from the jetty to the castle, but talk was that on the next fine, calm day then an expedition around the island would be mounted. It was intended to explore what could be seen from the windows of the castle, then put together a report for the ministry.

This day in the Prison had started much like all the others, the guards had patrolled, Malfoy had complained about the food and Umbridge had protested her innocence. Most of the prisoners simply got on with their lot, none more so than Umbridge's brother in law, whose only sign of rebellion was that every few days he berated the ex under secretary in the next cell to his, for her continued arrogant attitude. The guards had recommended that he was one prisoner who could be considered for a lower security area and perhaps a job in the kitchens.

The Warden was entering the staff room, where some of the guards were enjoying their mid morning break, he glanced out of the window in time to see a broad golden ribbon of light shoot out of the ground, illuminating the whole island as it flashed round the rocks and castle. As suddenly as it had come, the ribbon impacted with the tallest tower and disappeared. The warden and his staff rushed out, into the court yard and looked round in amazement. The sea was suddenly calm as a mill pond, the stonework of the castle appeared as if it were newly cut, the symbols of the founders of Hogwarts, Slytherin's shown as senior and where Gryffindor's lion should have been, was a badge with two animals on it, they now glowed above the door instead of the ministry shield, which had disappeared. They could see that the wards around the island glowed, as if highly charged, it somehow felt as if the place was even more secure, newly fit for its use. They returned to the staff room to find that all the wardens had gathered and waiting there.

"What's going on?" The Warden asked. "Why aren't you patrolling?"

"No need, the castle is doing it all for us, it's like when the Dementors were here, without the darkness of them though. We shall be supplementary, rather than essential from now on it seems." One of the guards replied.

"What?" The warden exclaimed.

"It's true, go and look." Another told him.

The warden left the room and walked round the castles corridors, long dormant Statues sprang to life as he passed, apparently recognising him or his position, opening doors for him, closing them behind him. He couldn't open one of the cell doors himself, until he asked to see the prisoner, at which point the door opened for him. He had the prisoner try to request the door open again, it remained shut and locked, until the Warden asked again. The Prisoner tried to follow the warden out, but was prevented by an invisible barrier. It seemed the prison was completely secure, by design, the statues each patrolling their own sections. He returned to the staff room. "I think I had better contact the Ministry." He told them.

* * *

The small town of Godric's Hollow was already busy with visitors and residents, both magical and Muggle. It was Market day and the square was full of stalls, many with souvenirs and holiday goods to take advantage of the seasonal visitors, amongst the more usual produce. Both Magical and Muggle students were enjoying the summer holidays with their families, which meant high season for the town and for the magical tourism co ordinator, Draco Malfoy.

This was his first full season in post, having taken it up part way through the last, when most of what was needed to be done had been arranged by his predecessor. Oliver Gresley had arranged the post for him then, it was now part of his department at the Ministry, along with an equivalent post in Hogsmeade, which was vacant for the time being, both positions were needed now the two places were experiencing a tourist boom. Godric's Hollow was now even more of an important a place of pilgrimage for Magical folk than it had been before the war, now that Harry had been seen there, it was felt he had approved the memorials and of course there was a chance they might see him. The post Draco held was partly ensuring that the statute of secrecy was up held, whilst enabling the magical visitors to enjoy their visit as well as seeing to the information available. This meant he was now the main liaison between Magical and Muggle authorities in the town, a task he found he quite enjoyable. There was now a none resident Apparition and Portkey point that enabled visitors to arrive, avoiding the chances of being seen by Muggles, residents of the town of course had their own arrangements. The new guide he had created for the Magical community included guidance on Muggle dress and the customs they held in the town, as well as listing events, enabling his own people to join in, almost seamlessly. Both Muggle and Magical histories of the town were included as well as the story of the Potters, it had become a best seller in the town, so much so that the Muggle authorities had seen the value of it. This had led to a version of it, adapted for Muggles, being published, it of course omitted mention of the Magical community and items like the guidance on dress, but was still well received and helped explain the crowds round the Potter's Grave and the so called site of their home in a way acceptable to non magical folk. Both versions were sold in the newsagents and post office, both run by alumni of Hogwarts, but of course the Magical version was invisible to Muggles. So far there had only been one awkward moment when a young Muggle born had asked his parents to buy a book they could not see, quickly resolved by the sharp eyed, quick witted post mistress, who took the family aside to explain, giving them the option of discovering more about the world their son would enter at age eleven or being returned to blissful influence. The family were now learning about the magical world, under supervision, a scheme that had given Kingsley food for thought on how Muggle born children were introduced to the Wizarding world in Britain.

Draco was out and about amongst the crowds in the town, he was shopping in the Market using Muggle money to pay for his purchases, something he would not have done not too long ago. He had become well known with the locals and Market traders as he had integrated into the community, he had not completely lost his old manner and he would not use some Muggle technology, but his attitudes had mellowed, it took time to get over a lifetimes training of prejudice. That said he had become a welcome and friendly figure amongst the locals, so was greeted warmly by many, privately he had grown used to looking after himself, he had learnt to cook well enough so that he didn't starve, he maintained a smart appearance having learnt how to launder his clothes and he kept his flat spotless. As usual on market day he took time to replenish his supplies, so was making his way to his favourite Butchers stall, when it happened.

All went still, the breeze stopped, silence fell and every Magical in the town knew something was about to happen, they could feel it. They glanced round, trying not to draw attention to themselves, then with a bright flash, they all felt an incredible surge of magical energy erupt from the ground, rocketing into the air, where it split and hit the dome of the wards over the town. The golden ribbons of energy recharged and renewed the protection placed over Godric's Hollow in less than a second, then it dispersed as quickly as it arrived. It left a charge in the air, and every one could feel it, but only Witches and Wizards could tell there was an increase in the magical power of the area.

"Blimey!" The butchers voice drew Draco's attention back to the market and activity around him. "That was a hell of a lightening strike, odd there's not a cloud in the sky. Lucky it didn't hit anything or anyone, eh Mr. Malfoy." He said cheerfully.

"Certainly was Mr. Barker, now what have you got for me today." Draco replied, he kept one ear open to hear if the other Muggles were saying anything untoward about the event, while wondering what had caused the sudden surge of Magic.

After a couple of minutes Draco, having paid for his purchases, bid goodbye to Mr. Barker and left with a bag of meat to last him for the week. From what he had overheard, he was reassured the Muggles were putting the incident down to a freak lightening strike. Even so, although he had yet to complete his shopping, he rushed back to his office, to report the event to the Ministry.

* * *

What had been a quiet, ordered even ordinary day in the Ministry suddenly became one of frenetic activity. Sudden enormous spikes of Magical power had been detected from Hogwarts, Azkaban, Godric's Hollow and two other locations. There was no clear explanation for the simultaneous spikes away from Hogwarts, or the one that had happened moments earlier at the castle. Then they were contacted by people out on the scene of the events, including Draco Malfoy and The Warden of Azkaban. They were at a loss for an explanation, but quickly took the reports up to the Minister. Kingsley took one look at the report and shook his head smiling ruefully, looking up at the official he said. "Don't worry, I'll speak to Harry, I have a feeling this may have something to do with a little job he was given to do yesterday."

* * *

At Gringotts, the chief of the bank was grinning madly at the map of the Magical estates of Britain, that was fixed on his office wall. Five, which had dulled due to other influences, now glowed brightly once more, for the first time in centuries. In fact prior to today he had only had rumour, passed down through generations of Goblins, that the five places had ever glowed this strongly at all. He knew it meant the restoration of the founders Magic over their estates and the resurrection of the wards they fuelled, it meant much more than most knew. How much would be answered in time, but change, restoration, was coming, of that he was certain.

* * *

In Gryffindor tower, where it had all started, unaware that the events they had caused had, had an effect across the country, the group who had watched the visible magic retreat back into the newly replaced shield. The final charge of light from outside preceded the sight of the three threads, that had rushed from the other founders objects into the tower, simply faded from view. Leaving them all silent, amazed by what they had seen from inside the castle, wondering what it had looked like outside.

Minerva was first to speak, quietly, her voice full of awe. "Well the wards have never felt stronger, not since I became head at least, not for many a year I suspect. I expect that was spectacular to witness from outside, I can feel that every curse placed here has been destroyed, if that took a visible form, then it would have been an incredible sight."

Harry nodded in agreement, but each of them, living and spirit, stood silently contemplating what had happened for several minutes, until the silence was interrupted and they heard the thunder of Hagrid approaching the common room at speed. Shaken from their contemplation, they all turned as one, just in time to see the out of breath half Giant as he burst through the portrait hole.

"Are yer all ok?" He asked gasping for breath.

"Fine Hagrid." Ginny replied. "Come on, sit down."

She led him to the largest sofa and he sat catching his breath, before telling them what he and Grawp had seen. When he told them about the longboats, Harry went to look out of the window that faced the lake, the three Ghosts, and Peeves who whooped in delight when he saw the vessels were there, he was just in time to see Grawp pick up one end of the largest, to carefully empty the remaining water from it, then propping it up as he splashed water into it, washing out the silt. Peeves zoomed out of the window, to go and assist his Giant friend.

"What you saw must have been the original charms and wards reasserting themselves Hagrid." Minerva said. "Sweeping away any later curses, over powering them, we speculated it must have been an incredible thing to see."

"Aye Headmistress." He agreed. "Ah'll never forge' it, tha's exactly what I' looked like t' me any'ow."

The Ghosts floated off into the school and once Hagrid had his breath back, the others made their way back down through the school. They acknowledged the grinning portraits of the Fat lady and Utred on the way back into the corridor, admiring the new looking stonework and glass as they went. The moving stairs continued as they had, the trick stairs remained, but there was a fresh feel to the whole building. They stopped to look in the Great Hall where the banners of all four houses hung in readiness for the start of term. All four were more vibrant, somehow even more lustrous than they had been, but it was the Gryffindor one that showed the greatest change. A lion and a Griffon gambolled about on the banner now, as if they were long lost friends reunited on the red and gold cloth. The school was, at last, restored.

* * *

They had sensed the change, the power that had suddenly been activated across this land was enormous and it was not in just one place on the island. It was a restoration of power that was a racial memory to them. Hogwarts and Hogsmeade were once again out of their reach, although until, the soulless one of empty promises had come to them, they had only seldom been allowed there. Godric's Hollow was, they sensed, now blocked completely from them as were the lands of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Those lands had not been that fruitful for them in the past anyway, it was just they were now blocked from them again. That was important now, though it wasn't until they had followed the one with the fractured soul, believed his promises, bred to strengthen his armies, that they knew now had been a mistake, that all places had become important to their survival. Now that they were dispersed across this country, no longer breeding, battling to survive with their increased population, that being excluded from anywhere had become important to them. They now had no home, thanks to following that deluded wizard, they had become nomadic, as they had never been before. They were hidden in forests and dark places once again, but not in a community as they had before. Forced to prey on any human or creature that might cross their path, no matter how poor a feast it might be. They could still hear their brethren, knew where each one of them were, though they could not stay long in anyone place or they would not remain concealed from the magical ones. Winter was easiest, when the ground froze naturally, but now their presence killed the plants if they stayed too long, revealing them to the magical world.

They had lost it all, followed the wrong side, abandoned the home they had been given where the food they needed, had been plentiful, now they were the prey of Wizards. Now it was rarely that they could feed, they needed those emotions constantly or a soul once in a while to survive. Most of them had managed to subsist on the emotions of those humans passing or the foul tasting souls of mundane beasts. There were stories that a few had managed to capture a mundane humans soul, but they were just tales. It had now been two winters since they had been forced to live like this, a few of their number had been caught, a few had wanted to find the marsh where they originated from, but it's location was lost to them. A growing number had wanted to return to the island where the one with the fouled soul had come for them, they had been on the verge of contacting the Wizards to arrange their return, but that was impossible now. Whatever had happened to close off places to them, had happened there as well, they would no longer be able to return there.

Every one of them sensed it, it had awoken an ancient racial memory, they instinctively knew to go there now would mean death, there had been a place near the mythical Marsh of their origin like that. A feeling of desperation was growing among them, they had hidden long enough, they must survive. They would regroup, they would force the wizards to acknowledge them, provide what they needed, force them to drop the wards again, allow their return to the castle. They would go to Muggle places, where they could feed as much as they desired, rebuild their strength, this land had become painful to them it was time to reclaim it. The Sceadugengan would rise again.

* * *

In the evening after they had returned the shield, after Harry had been told by a smirking Kingsley what had happened as a result across the country, in the village of Hogsmeade, a young bushy haired witch sat in her garden, a smile on her face. Her husband was struggling with the charcoal barbecue they had received as a wedding gift from a Muggle Aunt. His father was helping him in his own way, adding to the general confusion, while her own father was holding his sides from laughing so hard, too much to be able to help, stood next to them. The rest of their family and friends were due to arrive at any moment, for a celebration of the last few days events.

"Boy's and barbecues." Her mother said wistfully, then looked at her daughter. "You all right my dear?"

She didn't reply at first, simply watching as Dudley joined the barbecue lighting team. Her husband and father in law yelped as suddenly the coals leapt into flame at the touch of the young Dursley's wand.

Her husband swore as his colleague looked at his wand bewildered, his girlfriend joined him smiling, he had just performed over powered wand magic for the first time. It was only a few hours since he had got it and was still getting used to how it focused the little power he had. He looked at her and muttered "Utred?" The smile growing on his face as Maria helped him learn Aquamenti charm, using his new wand, which shot water over the two Weasley and one Granger men. Maria absently dried them then moved away with Dudley to try to help him with his control, they practised near the pond.

Hermione's attention returned to her mother. "Oh yes mum, our family is healed after a millennium and I am married to a wonderful man, I couldn't be happier." Hermione finally replied, content, she looked again across the garden to where the men were still struggling with the now smoking Barbecue.

"Not worried that after everything, life could be a little boring from here on in?" Her mother asked.

Hermione looked at her mother and grinned, understanding passed between the two and both burst into laughter. They both knew that even if there were no more Dark Lords to deal with or Prophecy's to fulfil, their lives were bound to be anything but, boring. Their respective husbands would, at the very least, see to that. Calming they looked over to the men and burst into laughter again, their spouses faces were covered in soot.

The men looked over to the two laughing women with puzzled expressions, then looked at each other and shrugged, they knew better than to ask.

 **Eiga Lúka.**

 **(The End).**

* * *

 **Authors' notes:**

I hope you have enjoyed this chapter this story. It is with mixed feelings that at last it has been published in it's entirety.

As always many thanks to all who have reviewed, I look forward to reading any more that may be left. I will of course keep checking for new ones, as I still do with Essence of Revenge and my other stories as well.

Although a sequel to this is in the works, it is quite a long way from being ready, it will continue the story of the modern era characters, though not the founders era ones I'm afraid. Of course should inspiration strike, never say never. I do have other stories closer to being ready and will be publishing them in the meantime. So although it is goodbye to Utred and the Creaftas, I feel it right to continue to say.

Until next time.  
Tgfoy


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